


The Unexpected Piece

by Supermouse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Married Life, Romance, Scheming, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 99,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supermouse/pseuds/Supermouse
Summary: Mess with power and you get what you deserve. Bilia Stevens had nothing left to lose when she took the wand, stone and cloak, so if she could meddle with time and space and gain eternal protection from death, why wouldn't she?"Send me where I can do the Wizarding World the most good," she said, as a sop to Fate, but it was Death that laughed in her ears as she tumbled into the nasty little bedroom of a nasty little man.Well, Bilia Stevens wasn't all that nice herself, if it came to it.This is the tale of a paperwork marriage that turns only slowly into romance, and of conversations held over tea and home-made jam while the war rages on outside of Bilia's new home. It is a tale of manipulation, plotting, and trying to change time to the advantage of the Snapes above all other people. It is the tale of Severus Snape finally finding a witch who knows who and what he really is, and who is entirely on his side, always.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 87
Kudos: 53





	1. Who the Bloody Hell Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape isn't a people person. Bilia Stevens is stuck with him, he's stuck with her. Together they fight idiocy.

She tumbled down through some crack in time and space and landed as an inelegant heap between bed and floor.

There was a wand at her neck before she'd breathed in, the blunt end digging into her skin.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" they both said in chorus.

Time tidied itself up again, making them both aware that it had been ripped open and sewn back together. The feeling of impossible amounts of magic faded.

She was, he was, exceedingly ugly and greasy with a too large nose.

He had the wand. She didn't. 

"I'll ask you again," he asked. "Who are you?"

She glared at him with marked dislike. "Bilia Stevens," she told him. "You?"

"Severus Snape."

"That's ridiculous," she told him. "You do look like him, though. What year is it?"

His expression did not show him to have found her any more endearing. "Nineteen ninety."

"Gosh," she said, intrigued. "Look, stop digging whatever-that-is into my throat. You aren't going to kill me. No, really, you aren't. I'm in entirely the wrong time. How ridiculous. Bloody hell, is this your _room_?"

"Wait here," he said. "I am going to get Albus Dumbledore."

"No, you aren't," said Bilia, a statement of fact.

Snape stared at her. 'What have you done?' he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said, enraging him further. "Stop that! You'll give yourself indigestion and you'll need strength. So.... We're on the eve of Albus Dumbledore's bloodiest war."

"His what? When are you from?" asked Severus. He'd been casting to no avail, and was now watching like a hawk, all nerves and willingness to hurt.

"Year Seventeen, New Era," she told him, looking back from a sour examination of the cold stone walls. "A few hundred years from now, though we've changed dates."

"And you know what I look like."

"Well, you're on coins," she told him, startling him. "Double-headed silver pieces."

He glared at her with real loathing.

" _I_ didn't create the things," she told him. "Oh, sorry, did you want comforting lies?"

"Who was I supposed to have betrayed?" he asked, settling down into a defensive corner. 

Bilia supposed he looked more relaxed. Barely. She pulled herself up onto the bed, throwing him a pillow. "Everyone,'" she told him. "On every side, yourself included. You're a one-wizard disaster area."

"Should you be telling me this?" he asked, ignoring her gesture. 

"Why not?" she said, halfway between being amused and bitterly resigned. "It won't change anything." She looked around the room and down at him. "So, _apparently_ , if you get the wand and the stone and the cloak all together in one place, you become Master of Death, and _apparently_ , Death has a nasty sense of humour. Albus Dumbledore won't hear of me because Albus Dumbledore would have changed his plans, and he didn't, so he didn't."

"What did you ask for?"

She laughed. "I asked to go where I could do the most good for wizard kind," she said, her words a bitter taste in her mouth. "Now I'm back in time. In _your_ bedroom. You're very famous, after your death."

"For betrayal," he said, staring at her. He wasn't going anywhere. Nor was she.

"More or less," she said. "Born on the feast of Janus between two worlds, betrayed and betraying, miserable from birth to death. Dark and light, genius and idiot, protector and harmer. You symbolise duality, or rage and hatred, or wasted potential, skill without direction."

He gave her a cold stare. "You speak as though I were a tarot card," he said coldly.

"No, a coin," she told him. "Useful in Divination."

"As are tarot cards." Possibly, as he talked, he was using spells to examine the walls, since he was leaning back and sounded uninvolved, but he wasn't any less tense.

"Are they?" Bilia said, interested. "I was taught that the coins were the first actually reliable system."

He sat up, interested himself. "Tarot cards are not reliable, no. Are you saying that coins are?"

"Yes. They won't do you any good though," she told him. " _You_ can't change anything and _I_ can't make the things."

"When do I die?"

"2nd May 1998 A.D.," she told him. "Or C.E., depending on who you ask. It's the other date on the coin."

"What's the first?" 

"9th January 1960."

He regarded her with an impassive look. "The full span of my years."

"You die hated by _everyone_ ," she told him. "Hated or discarded. No historical figure was so universally despised when they died. Even Peter Pettigrew had his mother to mourn him. Eventually. Supposedly. It's myth and legend, so who knows."

"I am hardly a myth," said Snape coldly. 

"No, well, obviously," she told him impatiently. "I don't exist, that's the problem. Nor will I. You'll die horribly and uselessly in the third of a dozen wars in Wizarding Europe, this is the one in which if you're known, you probably died pointlessly. It's also the one everyone knows about. Well, says they know about. There's no reliable record. I don't exist at all that I know about. If anyone tries to give me a name I know about, I'm screaming and running. Perhaps I should, except..." she sighed. "If I do, I'll end up right back here again," she told him.

They both knew it to be true, with a horrible, hideous certainty that bound them in sympathy and accord. 

"We're here until we work out how to work together," he told her. "For the good of wizardkind."

"Well," she said with a sigh, "if they're right, I can't make your life any worse."

He glared at her with loathing.

"Tea then," she said brightly, and it appeared, causing them both consternation.

She tasted it first. "It's perfect," she said, surprised.

Snape looked at her, then tried it himself. It was. 'Why am I not being allowed to leave?" he asked, after drinking a wonderfully refreshing, perfect mouthful of tea.

Bilia closed her eyes, savouring the taste, then looked at him. Though she had a large nose, it was broader than his. Where his skin was yellowish and sallow, hers was corpse-white. His greasy hair was black. Hers was a dusty greyish brown and long enough to be tied back. His eyes were like cold, dark tunnels. Hers like a sulking sky before a summer storm. Her robes, however, were oddly similar to his, although true black where his were black-seeming purple. They didn't suit her. 

"I don't know," she told him, gathering another hate-filled glare. "Well, I do, but words won't arrive. I need time to think, Mr Snape."

The title seemed to affect him. "Professor Snape," he told her.

"Prof-essor?"

"Yes." A very clipped syllable. His gaze was on the door.

Bilia gave a bright unlovely smile. "Marvelous. Professor Snape then. Are you perfect at poisons or curses or potions or some sort of forbidden enchantment? Historical accounts differ."

"All of those things," he told her, after a pause. "What is your world like?"

She blinked. "I don't know," she said. "What is _your_ world like?"

"Run by fools. Divided." He clearly realised that it was a difficult question to answer. 

"Ours is... not run by complete idiots," she told him, which surprised him. "It was. Now all the actual idiots seem to die quite quickly. Obviously..." She took a breath and let it out. "Obviously, I need to live in your world, since I can't go back, and... answering questions is difficult, since I don't know what points of reference we share. I mean, unless you're going to kill me and somehow... you can't. You made plans for me and magic said no, just like that."

He drummed his fingers on the floor right by the ignored greasy pillow, then inclined his head. "Tell me then, about the cloak and wand and stone and being Master of Death."

She relayed an old and actually familiar story, with names and well-attested dates. "The graves were still there in my time," she said. "In Godric's Hollow."

"The village still existed?"

"There was a village there?"

He stared. "Clearly, our worlds are very different. Death himself appeared to you?"

"I'm not sure 'him' is the right word," she told him. "Some sort of awesome awful presence I wasn't about to mess around with, put it that way. _So_ , we understand one another's language. Magic is being... directly active. Your fate is absolutely horrible and can't be changed."

"How do you know?" he asked, in almost a reasonable tone.

"I... do. Somehow."

"Then what is the bloody point of you being here?" Snape snapped, glaring at her.

Bilia laughed, annoying him further, but he didn't even try to lift a wand against her. He folded in on himself, as if curling rage into his stomach to better appreciate the burn.

Her laughter stopped. "I laugh or I'll cry and rage," she told him. "I don't _know_ , other than that Death was laughing. I'm here, nothing changes... my life is useless." She looked at him. "I don't think I can even die," she told him.

"A curse then. It serves you right," he bit out at her. "Tell me nothing more."

She took a deep breath and stood up, finally moving towards the door, which they both knew, this time, would open.

Her hand was actually touching it when he grabbed her and threw her back at the bed. "Tell me what you know," he said, urgent, angry, hungry. Desperate. "If it can't be changed... at least I'll know."

She was gone, and suddenly he knew. He knew everything. Every vile moment to come, as if he had read about it in history books or listened to portraits or even seen it all in prophetic dreams. 

He wrapped his arms around him. Well then. What was going to be, would be.

She was right. It was going to be an absolutely horrible end. None of it made him any less sour to the idiots he was going to have to teach.

* * *

Long, painful years later, they were both in the same room again, Death's laughter echoing in their ears. Both were ugly, greasy and just about thirty years old. It was the Feast of Janus. 

Severus felt his neck, and hastened to another room, to a mirror. He came back and looked coldly down upon Bilia. "What now?" he asked. "Don't tell me you know as much as I do. I know that to be a lie."

She frowned, which didn't make her less ugly. "Now... now we make things up as we go along," she said. 

"Lily is still dead."

Bilia cocked her head. "She might not be," she said. She looked across the rank and filthy bedroom at the wizard she was trapped with. "A life for a life," she told Severus. "I'll die, you'll live, so will she. The Dark Lord will not fall this time. You'll know what would have happened."

"No," Severus said, barely needing to even think. "No. She wanted him to die more than she wanted to live. She wanted..." He swallowed. "She wanted to save her son," he said, and sat down on the bed.

Bilia moved hastily out of the way before he did, so that this time it was her that sat on the cold stone floor of his small, greasy little bedroom.

He threw a pillow at her. 

She sat on it, wrapping her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them and staring at the lower part of the opposite wall, while Severus Snape glowered at the bed. 

"What you are saying is that this time, we can change things," he said.

"Apparently?" said Bilia.

"Why do you know more than I?" he wanted to know. He was young, but not very young, and angry, very angry. Death had promised peace after a long and brutal war. Death had lied.

"I was there first or something," said Bilia. "You know what I did, don't you?"

"Precious little," he said. He waved a hand and there was tea.  
They both drank. The tea was perfect. "Less than you," he realised, after about half a cup. "You knew that time couldn't change. Now you know that it does."

"I'm less angry than you," said Bilia. "I listen more."

He glared at her. The glare became a stare. There was silence, during which they both refilled their cups. It could be a long, very painful time before they could once more appreciate this brew, if they ever did again.

"I could go to any time," he said. "I don't have to Sort into Slytherin, not this time. The Longbottoms can die to save the world."

"All right then," said Bilia, untroubled by this.

"You have no opinion?"

She shook her head. "I crashed into _your_ life, Severus. I don't know why, if I couldn't change anything, but, well... I don't know anything, do I? Not from your past."

"Eight years of living like a monk, knowing what was coming," said Severus. "If Hell is real, I've lived through it." He regarded her. "What if I settled in with you, declared you my one true love and we worked to change what happens?"

"From when?" asked Bilia. "Not that I'm saying yes, mind you, but..." she looked down at her hands and up. "I don't have a wand, O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s."

"From now," he said. "We've lived through it. We know what is coming. I don't have to explain anyone or anything to you. There is a... year of respite before Quirinus turns into a stuttering fool and a traitor."

"Puppet," said Bilia. "Fine then. Let's go to that hole you call a house and go from there." She stood up and both of them opened a door and walked through it to a nasty little terraced house in Spinner's End, then both stood and looked at the door that had just closed.

Severus was the first to open it and look through it again. He shut it, touching the wood, which was new, plain pine. It was the cleanest item in this dingy little room.

"I hate everything about this house, just so you know," she told him.

"Change it then," he said, looking over all of it with indifference. This one room was full of books and had one tolerably comfortable chair. It was not a place to invite visitors back to. The net curtains were a greyish yellow. "Do not destroy any of the books."

"Not destroy, no," she said thoughtfully, causing him to become curious and somewhat wary.

Still listening to something from afar, she opened a bookcase that would normally have harmed any but Severus and took out an old book with a battered cover. She showed it to him: _A Basic Primer In Primary Ingredients_ , a book he knew well.

He nodded, and she ran her fingers over it, then handed him a calf-leather-bound gold-edged volume, full of, he saw, full-colour illustrations and ink glosses to the sharp black text on snowy white pages.

"From my time," she told him. "Much improved. Only with anything from that book's time or your time that was lost." She gestured. "This is a place to store our memories and knowledge," she told him. "Like the tea, only.... books. Furniture."

"You can hardly make the rest of the house worse," he told her. "You have carte blanche."

"Go off and get decent ingredients and materials then," she told him. "Dinner too. Kill a sheep and a pig if you have to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this work is finished, I'm revising it for typos and formatting errors. 
> 
> Comments very welcome. Let me know what you think!


	2. A New Life Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're suited to one another. Perhaps that's not a good thing.

Snape and Bilia worked hard together to turn Snape's ugly little muggle-built brick box into something they could both live with. When they were done, it was still a small terraced house, but now with secret rooms, including an entire level stuck between the upstairs floor and downstairs ceiling. The entire roof was glass, so that the attic was a conservatory. Muggles would see tile. The fireplace in the extended kitchen could roast an ox. 

Every window had a window seat. All the wood was painted white, the walls the colour of old paper. The living room still belonged to a biliophile, but a wealthier one who cared about his things. On the granite mantlepiece was a bright silver crucible for burning incense and a jade box to hold floo powder. An ox-blood coloured sofa was tucked against a wall facing the long windows with their gauzy white nets and bottle green curtains. His tolerably comfortable chair was now entirely comfortable and matched the sofa for colour. The rug before the fireplace was thick, with concentric circles of grey and black.

It was not a joyful room, not really, but it was deliberately that way, rather than having arrived there through neglect. It was a room to retreat to, warm, well-lit and comfortable.

* * *

At seven o'clock to the chime of a stolen clock, they ate beef stew with actual dumplings, sitting in an actual dining room with its black table and chairs under green-shaded lights, using actual silver cutlery and drinking dark red wine.

"Your one true love needs to sleep somewhere," Bilia told Severus, after they'd both scraped their plates clean.

"In our shared bed," said Severus. "You spent enough time making a double bed comfortable. I assumed you realised."

"Oh," said Bilia. "Yes, I suppose so." She looked pensive and took the plates, then took a borrowed wand and wriggled it. The plates vanished. In the kitchen, there was a chugging noise from the automagic dishwasher. 

"I am not a virgin," said Severus. "Are you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"As with everything else, we'll find out how to be comfortable," he said, and offered his hand. He was no more attractive than he'd ever been, but he was, for once, not visibly driven by an inner rage. And she'd made him shower before dinner and change into clean clothes, but he'd wanted to scrub himself anyway.

She took the hand the evil dark wizard of legend was offering, and an hour later, she was drifting off into sleep, with Severus Snape curled up behind her, holding her to him. Satisfied, she, too, drifted away.

* * *

Bilia Snape, neé Stevens, was an ugly witch with an ugly name and a greasy dungeon bat of a husband. Her wedding present from Severus was a new wand made in Hogsmeade, that suited her exactly. Her wedding present to him was a pair of new boots. Their wedding was witnessed by Argus Filch and Aberforth Dumbledore. The vows were very carefully worded, a present of each to the other and a true union of like minds. Their domestic life was something they could both easily live with, until one or the other died.

Severus was dutiful and wary and Bilia capable and powerful, and now the house and the paperwork were both in order, they rubbed along together giving comfort through acts of service and very careful lovemaking, while they marched forward in time, one day at a time.

Severus had the knack of simply turning up in the castle, a power that came of his having been the Headmaster. Bilia was his assistant, as yet unpaid, who sorted out long-time deficits in inventory-keeping and made sure that classroom and office were as intimidating as Severus wanted them to be, and that every specimen was preserved and useful, rather than an old remnant. She brewed on his behalf, or went out hunting ingredients, sometimes literally. She was not seen. The only evidence of her presence was a plain gold wedding band on Severus Snape's ring finger. 

Quite probably, there was some hideous row with Albus about Severus having a new witch in his life and not telling his employer, but that part of his life was entirely closed to her. She massaged his shoulders and feet, and cooked him meals. And, when she had a hard day, he did the same.  
Two of them, together, did the job of one. Both knew what was coming. Neither knew what the Great Grand Plan had been that meant that they had to fight on broomsticks over Little Whinging or drop the Sword of Gryffindor into an icy pool. 

"How do we live long enough this time?" she asked him over perfect tea she'd made carefully the hard way, while they sat with their feet up, now the long school year was over. It was hot outside and cool in here. 

Severus put his fingers to his chin. "Perhaps I don't," he said. "Perhaps I die and you come back and tell me." He stroked a thumb over his left sleeve, dark velvet. "Perhaps I simply die."

"He confided in Potter," she told him. "Befriending Potter would put me on the side of the angels."

"I am not befriending that arrogant, book-shy pestilential brat," Severus snapped.

"No, naturally," she said and drank her tea. She watched him with her murky grey-blue eyes.

He drank. Considered matters. "Befriend how?" he asked.

"He has a soft spot for the miserable and shabby," she told him. "I can be miserable and shabby. He can discover me when he is left alone for a detention."

Severus considered this. "Very well," he said. "Do not accuse me of beating you. I wouldn't."

"No, but I can say that you are very exact and unpleasant if things are not exactly right," she said with a smile. 

"As if you're any different," he told her.

She laughed. "Come to bed," she told him. "Let's both be exacting and demanding together." She held out a hand.

They made love in a bed whose sheets needed changing, and, after dinner, they did indeed change the sheets and turn the mattress and clean it. That night, they went to bed clean and in the morning were sordid and sweaty again. Severus threw on clean linen underthings and robes from the day before and went out exactly as he was, to settle various accounts and put in new orders. 

Neither of them were ever in, if visitors came to call. Bilia existed, yes, but she didn't feel much need for company, and certainly not that of her husband's colleagues. She went shopping herself, for books, parchment, ink, quills, and killed a muntjac deer to hang up next to the beef and to one day be dinner. After considering her options for dinner, she took a chicken from a distant shed owned by muggles, that held several thousand, a bird that would not be missed, to feed them both that night. She left a corpse in its place.

* * *

Befriending Harry Potter got them exactly nowhere, since he apparently found her as approachable as Argus Filch. He saw her working hard while he did his own detention, and acted as if she didn't exist, while history played itself out all over again. Like the sink gargoyle or the portraits, she was so much scenery. 

Absolutely nothing changed. Severus was as sour at Hogwarts as he'd always been, and just as vicious. At home, he was a dutiful husband, she a dutiful wife, neither snapping at one another as the same dreadful life played out over again. Both liked comfort. Both worked to provide it. Both enjoyed the consquences of their actions. They understood one another and too much of the world outside.

Bilia existed, yes, but history was not exactly making note of her. Still, she was patient, busy, occupied and interested in the world, and didn't complain at the life she'd made by meddling with objects of great power and probably inadvisable magical techniques for getting control of them. She had a home now, the sex and food were both very good. No one was hunting her.

* * *

In late June of 1994, Bilia's sixth year in the legendary past, Severus returned from his meeting with the freshly resurrected Dark Lord, looking gaunt and paper-thin and hollow, smelling vile.

"The Dark Lord wants to see you," he told her.

"The Dark Lord can sod off," she told him. "I have a bath ready. Where is he?"

"I'm to take you straight to him." He'd never raised a hand to her after that first day, wasn't about to now, and he didn't plead, even with his eyes, which were fixed on the mantle.

She considered matters. "Fine," she sighed. "But go home as soon as you arrive. You have wedding vows to honour. I'll tell him to his face."

He considered matters, his face unreadable.

"And get into the bath," she told him. "It's no good cold."

She arrived in a musty ruin and snapped her fingers, so that her husband disappeared the way he'd come, then looked about. There was a monstrous snake and a cowering mess of a wizard.

"Take me to him," she told the ratty little Death Eater that was watching her and still deciding what to think. "Now."

"This way," he said, afraid, despite his brand new silver arm.

She walked into a shadowed room to see the Dark Lord in all his glory, a figure of power, so much so, it came in cold waves from his very presence. His eyes were bright red, his nose two slits. He sat on a dark chair, set on a stone floor, and such was his presence that the other details didn't matter at all.

"So, you are the witch that took Severus's heart," said the Dark Lord, erroneously, Bilia thought. They had a working arrangement. But then, he famously knew less of love than her husband. 

The Dark Lord was, for now, being polite. Or curious and waiting to see how she would respond. "How did he come to meet you?"

"That's none of your business," she told him.

There was a sharp hiss from the corner and a gasp from the silver-armed rat-wizard.

The Unforgiveable curse was caught in one hand and wrapped around it, so she held his magic in her fist.

"This is your house, so I won't kill you for that," she told him. "I can't, anyway, but you'll find there are things worse than death, Riddle. Never raise your wand to me again."

"You dare!" he hissed, eyes blazing red.

"Yes," she said with an unpleasant smile. "I do. He's mine. Hands off. You'll find, from now on, neither you _nor_ your followers can touch him. _If_ he decides he's loyal to your cause, that's his decision, not yours. He is no longer your belonging. You'll live, Riddle, but that's all. Sod off, you split-souled creep, I'm not joining your nasty little band of insane hem-suckers."

She let his magic go.

Nagini struck, and all at once, Bilia was holding a small ball of black energy, while Nagini herself writhed in confusion.

Riddle merely watched, wand out, but did not attack. He seemed very aware of how her magic was working.

"Catch," she said, and threw his magic back at him.

He did, a white hand moving snake-fast and the black ball of energy sank into him.

"I'm sure you can put that back without any trouble," she told him, looking at their unfortunate witness.

She left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to explore the world as Bilia left it in this story, but I have a decent idea of how and why things changed. Let's just say magic has moved on between the 1990s and the time Bilia came from, and being Master of Death is a bonus added on top. 
> 
> Neither Bilia nor Severus are nice people, but they can work together, and the fact that she can magically kick his ass does the relationship no harm whatsoever.


	3. People Can Be So Difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting out and meeting people is the best way to appreciate being at home.

Severus knew Bilia well enough by now that he was in his bath, though he came out when she arrived and held out towels to him. He helped her shower, she helped him. It was a gentle evening. They slept together, and now and then she would soothe one of his dreams with an ice-cold hand across his brow.

In the morning, they had sex, Severus holding her down by her wrists and smiling down on her, though afterwards they cuddled.

Once he'd showered and dressed in his finest clothes, he went off to go and report to Dumbledore.

Not the conversation that Bilia had had with him. That was none of the Headmaster's business, and, to be fair, other than 'yes! yes! YES!' they hadn't actually talked.

"I love you," she told Severus when he stepped back into their sitting room and shut the connecting door behind him.

"I do not love the Headmaster," he told her. "I sense, somehow, that the Dark Lord cannot summon me unless I choose to allow him."

She smiled. "You're making breakfast," she told him. "It'll soothe you and you need to eat. He won't be raising a wand to you again. Those he marked, cannot touch you, nor can he. I _think_ he probably killed Peter Pettigrew, who witnessed his humiliation."

"I won't mourn him if he has," said Severus, moving to the kitchen, obedient to her command. "Eggs and bacon?"

"Scrambled with chives, but do mushrooms first," she told him. "I'll sort out toast. He's split his soul. The Dark Lord, I mean. That's probably how he's immortal." She stood by the doorway, watching him move around the kitchen.

Severus considered matters, pausing in taking up eggs. "What difference does it make to our plans?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'll join the Order and be ignored by Harry Potter," said Bilia. "Vile brat. Him and his pestilential Weasleys. Can we bring Longbottom in this time? He turned out to be actually useful."

"If you like," said Severus. "Talk to Augusta, once you're in."

* * *

They ate together, enjoying one another's company. Both had powers that other witches and wizards did not, and now... now things could not be the same.

"He did not want my loyalties to be divided," Severus said, curled up with her on their sofa. Safe. Perhaps he had teaching duties, but if so, he wasn't attending to them. "The Dark Lord."

"Then he should not have set you up as spy and killed Lily Potter," said Bilia, taking his hand and playing with the fingertips. "So, one piece of his soul was inside his snake, Nagini, and he'll need to kill to put it back. Others are dotted about the place. Presumably, one needs to destroy them to kill him." 

"Using the Sword of Gryffindor," said Severus, before kissing the top of her head and resting his chin there.

"Presumably," said Bilia, her smile in her tone. "Let's go and beard Black in his den before the Weasleys get there."

He thought about it. "You're dealing with him."

She snorted. "Obviously," she said, and flicked his cheek.

They kissed, long and deep, then she stood up, and both of them saw one another dressed to the nines.

"Neither of us are ever going to win prizes for our looks," she told him, once they were done.

"No, but we manage a certain presence that others lack," he told her.  
She beamed at him, and went outside to apparate.

* * *

Severus was the one who banged upon the door, causing confused shouting. The door opened.

"You!" said Black.

Severus seemed taken aback, but all he was doing was moving so that his wife could take his place.

"Sirius Black," she told him. "Well, let us in then."

"I don't know you," he said, angry, his wand ready. They could both hear screeching from inside. Some sort of angry muggle was chanting his complaints to a beat from a house nearby.

"Bilia Snape," she told him, not raising her voice at all. "Née Stevens. Severus's wife."

"You have a _wife_ , Snivellus?" said Sirius, then held his face. Blood trickled from his nose and lip.

"Do not call my husband names," she told him, and handed him his wand back. "I don't like it. By the smell of things, I didn't come to this house a minute too soon. Life will be easier all round if you let us both in before Albus makes him and before Molly Weasley gets here and decides you need to be under her thumb."

"So I should be under yours instead, is that it?" said Sirius.

"No, my thumb's reserved for Severus," she said, smiling at him, looking into his eyes. "I love him, Sirius, so you'll be nice to him when I'm around, all right? Since I can apparently slap faster than you can cast."

"All right," he said, and backed away.

"Go and hide somewhere," she told him, stepping in. "Not a _word_ , Severus, he's our host. We'll mind our manners." She had a hard look at him.

He stared at her, then nodded. 'If you would show me to some other room than this one,' he told Sirius. 

"Go to any room you like," said Sirius. "I hope it eats you, _Snape_." He walked off, thumping his heels at each step, though over the screeching they could barely hear it.

Severus, at a gesture, followed, then went off down towards the kitchen.

"Unless you want your face stripped, scrubbed, plastered and papered, you should probably leave a door between yourself and this hall," she told him. "I'll need your permission to clean as well." She had to shout over the painting, _with_ a charm.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see," she told him. "Then we'll see about permission for the rest of the house. I can't make things worse."

He snorted at that, but something in her face decided him, and he left, going into the kitchen after his schoolyard enemy.

With gestures, using the wand almost as an afterthought, Bilia ripped darkness out of the walls like a rubbery web, collecting it like rolled-up fabric, and when a house-elf turned up and began screeching, she thrust the web at him, so he was caught up in it, then kept pulling, going up the steps, and up, while the web actually became smaller, darker, slicker, stuck to one of the house-elf's hands. Eventually, they emerged on the roof.

"Unless _any_ of your masters or mistresses liked filth and mould, throw that away," she told him.

Kreacher stared at her, then did as she asked, hurling the blob out from the roof. It turned into shreds.

She waved a wand and cleaned ordinary filth from the windows with an ordinary charm, even scrubbling the gravel and repairing all that was up here. The skylight was repaired, and the door, which let her back inside.

"New witch is changing things Mistress is not liking," said Kreacher.

"You're a house-elf," she told him. "I wasn't aware your masters and mistresses encouraged back-chat."

Kreacher glared at her and left.

She came back down to a hall that, while still dingy, was at least lit from above, and made broad strokes as if with a paintbrush upon a picture of the hall. 

If the painting's loud screaming got to her, she showed no sign of it, and after half an hour, she came down to the kitchen, looking as if she'd done nothing at all. "Done," she said, to the two wizards who were sitting, arms folded, glaring at different walls. "The entire hall up to and including the roof. How attached are you to that witch's portrait?"

"Not even slightly," said Sirius with feeling, not bothering to unfold his arms or get up.

"Then I'll see to it she calms down and shuts up, shall I?" Bilia suggested brightly.

"You can do that?" Sirius went from sulking, to pleading and hopeful as if a switch had been thrown. He actually rose to his feet.

So, from long, wary habit, did her unprepossessing husband, although no wariness showed on his face.

Bilia smiled upon their reluctant host's begging look as though she liked him. "I can. Severus, go and sort tea out for all of us. The house-elf is useless."

Severus had been watching all of this while being entirely impassive. At the casual command from his wife, he nodded and left by floo, while Sirius cackled. "You've got him—" he began and shut up rapidly at the fingers sitting in front of his nose.

"That's my husband, so be nice," she told him. "Come and see."

Sirius was amused, rather than offended, and came up the stairs after her, stopping to stare and look around. The light from above apparently made him blink.

"THIEVES! BLOOD-TRAITORS! SCUM!" yelled the painting, on and on. Bilia stalked forward, and Sirius, still staring at the pleasant, springlike hall, followed, treading on polished wood floor. If their steps made a sound, they couldn't hear it, not over the screeching shouts.

Bilia stared at the painting in a room that was suddenly entirely silent, then she reached with her wand, did something complex and pulled. The painting crumbled to multicoloured dust, which she vanished. "I can see about carpet, if you pay for it," she told him. "You're not a charity case. Shall I see to the rest of the house?" Now that they were not being shouted at, her voice was quite pleasant.

He stared at her. "Dumbledore couldn't stop that harpy," he told her.

"I'm not Dumbledore," she told him. "Tea, then, while you decide."

Sirius nodded and followed.

They drank tea together. It was perfect, as were the little butter biscuits they had with it. 

"I'll be busy, if Mr Black allows," she told Severus. "I should be done by the day after tomorrow. You'll have to see to it I'm fed, in between whatever else you're doing."

"I have potions to brew," he said, putting down his tea cup. "Will you be sleeping here?"

"No, I'll be with you at eleven," she told him. "Gone again at seven."

"Eight," said Sirius.

"Seven, once you give me carte blanche to clean," she told him. "One room at a time, and you can leave open the ones you aren't worried about. I'll need you for the library and other, similar rooms so I'm not running off with the family silver or anything."

"You can for me," said Sirius. "Can you get rid of the snakes?"

"Provide silver, brass or gold to replace them with and yes," she told him. "Wool for the carpet... if need be, Severus can go shopping on your behalf. I'll make a list. I assume you're light and I'm to decorate accordingly."

"Less green," he told her.

"Red in this house would look bloody," she told him. "Pale blue?" 

He nodded, reluctantly. Severus was entirely uninvolved in the situation, relaxing over tea, even with his enemy right there, while Sirius was stuck between visible dislike of Severus and a definite wary respect of the Death Eater's wife.

"I'll consider each room on its own merits,' she told him, after another drink of tea, setting the teacup back in a delicate saucer. "Not like before, that's the main thing. Pleasant."

"I can pick up a list in about an hour," said Severus.

Bilia nodded, the decision now made so far as she was concerned and, just like that, Sirius went along with her plans.

* * *

Bilia worked her magic with the books, creating light-bound new copies where dark-bound old copies had been, although, this time, she kept the same content. Now and then, Sirius threw a book into a bottomless box she had out for the occasion. When he was satisfied, she vanished the box and sent him out, and so she worked through each room.

When Order members came, it was to the kitchen, where there was no sign of her, and so her work escaped notice, since Sirius didn't apparently see fit to tell them.

She ended up regarding a locket with interest, while Kreacher shouted, and Sirius came in response to a raven patronus.

"What is it?"

"A piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside Salazar Slytherin's own locket," she told him. "You should probably take that and the house-elf to Albus Dumbledore and get the house elf to tell him all he knows about the locket. I'll go and bathe or something while you do. If he wants to see me, the answer is no. He can see Severus all he likes, but Severus doesn't know about this. Anyway, we'll leave it for now and sort out the rest first. Luckily, this is the last room but two. Do you want the hippogriff rehoused?"

"No, leave him there," said Sirius, snatching at the locket and failing to get it. "What do you mean, it has part of Voldemo—"

"I wouldn't, not when part of his soul is right here," she told him, lowering her hand. "You would _probably_ rather he not realise we have this. Call him Moldyshorts if you like."

Sirius choked, then nodded. "Fine," he said. "Let me have it."

"Shall I sort out the rest of the house first?" she asked. "Very probably he'll be excited and then it might not get done."

"Go on then."

* * *

By nightfall, the snake decorations were now all gone, replaced by fluted brass or gilt abstract designs that suited the house. Bilia didn't run to actual sculpture, but every portrait was bright and clean. Buckbeak looked like an entirely new hippogriff, and Sirius had no choice, really, but to let him go. 

There was a study and a bedroom she refused to touch.

"Why not those two?" Sirius asked, having been following her around like a lost dog all day.

"One sets the house-elf off and the other has watching eyes inside," she told him, eternally respectful. "I'll see Albus Dumbledore by appointment, but I am not going to be sent for like a servant. He'll see me on my own terms and like it. The house-elf can tell him what's going on with the locket. Goodness knows _I_ don't know how it got there."

Sirius gave her a hard look. "I thought Dumbledore sent you here," he said.

She gave him a cool look in return. "I'm not his servant," she told him. "Severus... might as well be. You, Mr Black, are a wanted criminal, I am Professor Snape's wife, although, granted, not a registered witch."

Sirius stared. "Not registered?" he said, and looked down at her wand.

__She tucked it away. "I didn't think you were about to run and report me for using a wand," she told him. "No, in the legal, magical sense I don't exist except as my husband's wife. Anyway, you have a clean house now, one that's safe to be in, _and_ an actual dining room. I catalogued your wine cellar, including values for replacing each bottle, but you'll have to see to filling the pantry and spice cupboard, tea chests and so on." She offered a hand.__

______ _ _

__Dazed, he shook it._ _

_____ _

__"You could always say thanks," she suggested brightly. "It was quite hard work."_ _

_____ _

__"Yes, thank you," he said, and looked around. "You wouldn't know the place. Did he send you?" His pale eyes were fixed on her very quickly, his face sharp with curiosity. One mood to another in an instant._ _

_____ _

__Bilia was all calm reason. "He sent Severus, and Severus has standards and a loyally bound wife," she told him, smiling. "It's much the same thing. A split part of the Dark Lord's soul then, in a locket, and the house-elf knows how it came to be here, I'm pretty sure. He should really tell Dumbledore all he knows of it."_ _

_____ _

__Sirius nodded obediently, perhaps without realising he had. "Yes," he said, and decided, there and then, to trust her, yet again. Wary suspicion back to a friendly, open face. "Thanks for improving the house." He frowned. "Though you didn't do it for me." Back to not quite liking her again, apparently._ _

_____ _

__"But still, you benefit," she told him, her expression entirely unchanged. "I'll see you as and when I'm invited back. Good afternoon."_ _

_____ _

* * *

_____ _

__It was some four days later, days in which Severus became rather tense and was out of the house a lot, before Mrs Snape, dressed in her finery, went to the Headmaster's office by floo, and was finally, officially, invited into the school._ _

_____ _

__"Mrs Snape," Albus said, showing her to a seat at one side of the room. "Do come in and sit down."_ _

_____ _

__"Professor Dumbledore," she said, her tone just as pleasant. "My genial host for the meeting," and she settled in place. All around her, metallic objects clicked and whirred and puffed and hummed, while on a wall closer to the door, behind the grand Headmaster's desk, an audience of portraits whispered or muttered or snored. Bilia's attention, however, was all on the Headmaster._ _

_____ _

__"It would seem you have rendered myself and Mr Black great service," he told her, standing in his fine robes and watching her settle herself down with his smile set to genial._ _

_____ _

__"Very great service," she agreed with as warm a smile as her pinched features would allow. She watched as he conjured an armchair for himself, and adjusted her seat in her own straight-backed chair._ _

_____ _

__"Forgive an old man for cosseting aching bones," he told her. "Now, tea, I think, and then I look forward to hearing how it is you came to be at a house that was under the Fidelius Charm."_ _

_____ _

__"Oh, was it?" she said, watching him pour tea from a pot that had just arrived. "Lemon juice and two sugars, thank you."_ _

_____ _

__He obliged and offered the cup to her. "In fact, now I think about it, I can't quite recall the occasion of your marriage to Severus and I would have thought I would have noticed that."_ _

_____ _

__"It doesn't affect any previous vows he might have made," she told him. "Severus was very clear upon the subject." She sipped the tea and nodded with approval. "It was a small, quiet wedding," she told him. 'Years ago. Your brother and your caretaker were witnesses."_ _

_____ _

__He frowned at her. "How many years ago?"_ _

_____ _

__"1990," she said, smiling at the happy memory. "I wore grey, rather than white, but nobody objected." She looked at him. "It was a pleasant day."_ _

_____ _

__"I'm sure it was," he said, examining her, drinking tea himself. "You are a singular witch, Mrs Snape," he said, as though admiring her._ _

_____ _

__"I'm not actually registered as a witch," she told him. "As a wife, yes, but not a witch."_ _

_____ _

__"How did you and Severus come to meet?" he asked, still being friendly._ _

_____ _

__"Those are not circumstances I feel comfortable sharing," she told him. She smiled. "I'm sure you understand a need to keep certain things private," she added, in a slightly pointed tone._ _

_____ _

__He frowned a little. "I'm not sure to what you refer, Mrs Snape."_ _

_____ _

__Her smile was wide. "All the better," she told him. "There are so many things, aren't there? Yours is a very long life, Professor Dumbledore, full of accident and adventure, I'm sure. I chose witnesses very carefully, and then, Professor Dumbledore, I sent you a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, rather than hiding it and passing it on to him." She gave him a long, penetrating look._ _

_____ _

__"So you did," he said. "I must know, though, how you bypassed the Fidelius. If you are not a witch, is there some blood I need to take into account? Your parents, perhaps, might not have been entirely human?"_ _

_____ _

__She put her cup down. 'My _parents_ were respectable scholars, rather, than, say, a goat-herder and a criminal," she told him sharply. "Also, entirely human, Professor Dumbledore. I wouldn't go poking into people's backgrounds too closely, if I were you, not when yours doesn't hold up to much scrutiny. _My_ family have never dabbled in the Dark Arts."_ _

_____ _

__"But Severus has."_ _

_____ _

__"He's entirely respectable," she told him. "If he _does _, that's your doing, Professor Dumbledore. He doesn't need the Dark Arts to perform his job as Potions Master." She drank tea and soothed herself.___ _

_____ _

____Dumbledore gave her a hard look, during which his own thoughts were reflected back at him. "I suppose you could see it that way," he said. "You will join us, then, in this fight to destroy Lord Voldemort?"_ _ _ _

_____ _

____"I will warn you, not to insult my husband in front of me," she told him. "I already split Sirius Black's lip for that one, and bloodied his nose. If you can be well-mannered when we are both there, then I can attend meetings now and then, _at_ my own convenience. I'm not your bound servant, so do remember that, won't you? It's very easy, when you're in charge of so much, to see everyone as an underling." Her tone gradually changed from sharp to conciliatory, while portraits hissed and protested. Or sniggered nastily._ _ _ _

_____ _

____Dumbledore was still entirely, politely friendly with the exact same smile he'd begun with. "Did you take the vow to obey?" he asked, putting his tea cup down._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"It was a magical day," she said with a smile. "You'll have to ask your brother for the details. Or Argus Filch. You'll understand, I'm sure, that the precise nature of our bond is beyond the understanding of those who have not, themselves, experienced it. Let us say that I have an absolute trust in Severus, and he has an absolute trust in me, and leave it there."_ _ _ _

_____ _

____"And the Fidelius Charm?"_ _ _ _

_____ _

____"Can be bypassed," she told him. "It is not, itself, a sufficient barrier to outsiders, but history already proved that. I'm afraid, Professor Dumbledore, that that is all that I am willing to tell you on the matter. It would not be wise to tell you precisely how it can be overcome, and so long as you know that it can be, you have the knowledge you need." Her stare was earnest. "I hide this knowledge for your own protection," she told him, sounding wise._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"You are a singular... woman, Mrs Snape," he told her, after a pause._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"Naturally, or Severus would never have married me," she told him. "Do feel free to invite me along to meetings, but otherwise, I should get back to what I was doing. The tea was pleasant, thank you." She rose and went to the fireplace._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"I have a great many questions," Dumbledore said, rising himself and following, with no sign of aching bones at all._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"That is the sign of a good mind," she told him. "Questions should naturally arise in every waking moment, or one begins to drop into a rut. Spinner's End."  
And she was gone._ _ _ _

_____ _

* * *

_____ _

____"You know, I don't love your employer either," she told Severus when she arrived home, offering a kiss, which he accepted. "He wants to know how we got together, obviously, so I turned his own nothing-words upon him with a smile."_ _ _ _

_____ _

____"He can demand I tell him," said Severus._ _ _ _

_____ _

____"And then you can tell him that holy matrimony is one of life's great mysteries that he has not, as yet, explored and is not ready, as yet, to fully understand," she told him. "You understand married life, and in _that _, your wisdom surpasses his." She led him up to their shared bedroom as she spoke, and began to undress once they were there. "Why _did _you decide to do as you did?" she wondered. "It wasn't because you were overcome by my stunning good looks. Not that I regret a moment of it." She added a secret smile. "Especially the sex."_____ _ _ _

_____ _

________He helped her to undress, his movements precise. "Nobody knows me as you do," he told her. "Nor ever will. Nor could I cast you out into the world, although..." he considered her. "I expect you would somehow have managed."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Perhaps," she said. "Still, that's clear enough. You didn't want an enemy out in the world when you could have a loving wife close by. Simply remember that you have been married and understand marriage, and he has not been and in this, he is less wise than you and not _able_ to understand. You protect him from himself."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________He smiled. "Did you blackmail him?" he asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________She laughed and kissed him, resting her hands in his greasy hair. "He suggested that my parents might not be human, and I said they were scholars, not a goat-herder and a criminal."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________Severus choked at that. "You didn't!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"I told him that he shouldn't poke at anyone's background too closely, given his own and reminded him... well, never mind. You don't know why we were meeting."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Dinner is coq au vin," he told her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Oh! Severus, you are the best of husbands," she told him, smiling into his eyes. "I'll need to bathe first. Your employer makes the Dark Lord seem wholesome in his intentions. I'll be glad when he destroys himself. The world will be less blighted for his death. I held his thoughts within mine for a while, my love."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________Severus swallowed, then nodded. "I was loyal to the wrong wizard," he said, looking at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"That's the story of your life, isn't it?" she told him. "Thankfully, your taste in witches is a whole lot better. Anyway, we both _know_ he's setting a child up to die, that's hardly wholesome."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"I'm going to have to revise my ideas."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Neither can harm you," she told him. "Nor should Azkaban hold any fears. I'd get you out. Let's gift Black with a crate of polyjuice. He'll never be able to resist the temptation to go for... walkies."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________Severus grinned. It looked vile upon his face. "Indeed," he said. "Have you set yourself against the Headmaster then?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________She shook her head. "No, but he hasn't forbidden gifts of polyjuice," she told him. "Once he's dead, we can do exactly as we like. I can remove Harry Potter's dark passenger, at the cost of a life, but, well..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"He's going to make a murderer of me," said Severus. "Should I remove it then?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Hm. We'll think about how to make it happen, if Death Eaters are going to be witnesses," she told him. "The next time round, you'd be able to."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"The next time," he said, looking dispirited suddenly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________She held his face. "It gets better each time," she told him, looking into his cold, black eyes. "I'm your wife, Severus. I'll see you through this. We're... one person, just about."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________He considered her carefully. "Just about," he said. "I shall visit the Dark Lord tonight and pledge my allegiance and tell him what I know."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Your marriage vows forbid discussing my background," she told him. "However, I am bound never to do that which you would not like."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Which is true enough," he said with a smirk that suited him better than the grin had._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I absolutely adore you, did you know?" she told him. "Help me scrub myself clean, and I'll make sure you are cleansed after your meeting."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________He stroked her face in turn. "Cleansed," he said. "Very well. Does he truly revolt you more than the Dark Lord does?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________She considered the matter. "He's silkier and more subtle than Dolores Umbridge, but otherwise, entirely similar," she told him. "Speaking of which, we need to decide what we're doing about her."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"Not this evening," he told her. "If I am once again pledging fealty to the Dark Lord, then that is enough darkness for one night." He led her to the bathroom as he spoke, and they did not talk again before he left, having eaten only a light portion of a very good meal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

* * *

_____ _

________Severus returned with blood on his hands, although not soaked into his robes, which his wife took and put away, before soaking him in a very hot bath of salts and herbs. She oiled his hair and rendered his face entirely hairless, then set his eyebrows back, and, a short while after, in their marriage bed, he gasped out her name and held on to her as he sank into restful sleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"I love you," he told her the next morning. "You made this bearable. Thank you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________"I love you too," she told him. "Very much. You did the same for me, love. Now, before you go and have to report, let's remind you how married you are," and her smile was wicked, her hand already moving down his body._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _

________He did not go to his master smelling of blood, but of the marriage bed, feeling entirely male and assured in himself. Nor did he report the outcome, but he didn't look as sour as he usually did after such things, and he cooked dinner again, though it wasn't actually his turn. They were a married couple and very much in accord._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____ _


	4. Setting up the Board.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With war at hand, the political game can now begin.

When Bilia knocked upon his door again, Sirius let her into a house that was entirely pristine, one that smelled of incense and cologne rather than dust and mildew. 

"Potions," she told him. "I'll vouch for them being exactly what I say they are, though I didn't brew them. Thank you for being a host to me, Mr Black."

"Did Dumbledore tell you to come here?" he asked.

"No, he doesn't _tell_ me anything," she told him. "I'm not his servant." She looked around and back at him. "Think about what I've done so far, and decide what to do next." She lifted the wooden box.

"Come in then," he said, and walked off. "Kreacher." His tone was very neutral.

An immaculate house-elf arrived, clad in a white pillowcase. "Master calls?" he said, and regarded Bilia for a moment, then his master.

"Tea for two." 

"I wouldn't say no to biscuits," she told him.

"Biscuits too," said Sirius. "Come into the dining room, then." He was amused.

The dining room was covered in wallpaper designed to look like pink marble, with gold gleaming from various decorations. Every wooden item and feature was painted a bright white, while alabaster bowls cast pleasant light down from every corner and from the ceiling above, without hurting the eye. The floor was entirely covered in a soft grey carpet, almost silver, impervious to dirt. In other words, it was exactly as she had left it, other than for a certain smell of fresh ginger and lemon zest that came from golden, decorative bowls that had once been black and silver.

"Potions and an amulet," she told him, conjuring a cloth and setting the box down upon it. "Dreamless sleep and polyjuice. The amulet is rather better than an invisibility cloak. It will take you and whatever you wear, carry or touch, up to the limits of your levitation charm. It uses your own magic. *When* the war is over, I'll want it back." She set out the various glass vials, and settled down away from her offerings, so he could examine things.

"You're being very generous, Mrs Snape," Sirius said.

"We all do what we can," she replied in a comfortable tone, rounded out by her homely smile. "Severus has gone off to assure the Dark Lord he is as loyal a Death Eater as ever did whatever disgusting things it is that Death Eaters do, all for the sake of his employer, Albus Dumbledore. Myself, I stay out of it. However, it did occur to me that you would benefit from ways to get outside and live a little."

"Dumbledore wants me to stay here," he told her with a frown.

"Is that teapot purely for decorative purposes?" she asked. "Don't use my presents if you don't want to, Mr Black, just put them aside somewhere. I know you don't like my husband much, but I thought I'd shown myself to be pleasant and useful."

He poured tea for them both and offered biscuits, and she smiled her ugly smile and drank and ate, while he checked each vial in turn and then the amulet, with its shimmering stone set about with points of light.

"Does Dumbledore know you've done this?" he asked.

"No. More importantly, the Dark Lord doesn't know, nor _will _he know. Severus does, obviously, but he'd make a poor spy if he went and told the Dark Lord everything, wouldn't he?"__

__"Voldemort," said Sirius, still frowning._ _

__"If you like," she told him. "I play the part of Death-Eater's wife from this point forward, and don't say the name. Obviously, I don't play the part _here_ , and I'm not about to offer my fealty."_ _

__"Well, you've offered," said Sirius._ _

__She stood up again. "So I have," she told him. "Your house-elf seems fully on top of things, so I'm hardly needed here. I'll no doubt see you as and when I'm invited to a meeting."_ _

__"No doubt you will," he said._ _

__She smiled and left the room, looking up to see eyes looking down upon her. Students from the school, Weasley ginger entirely recognisable._ _

__"Good afternoon," she said, and let Sirius let her out again to the stinking muggle street._ _

* * *

__Gathering ingredients gave both husband and wife reason to have to go out in bright sunshine to remote, beautiful places, home and abroad, and naturally, they had to eat, so, just as naturally, they took picnics with them. Severus in his teaching robes would have been instantly recognisable, and could hardly have looked more different when he dressed like a muggle backpacker, as did she. They gathered newspapers as well, and, in general, were well-fed, well-informed and enjoying a summer of freedom to move around as they liked._ _

* * *

__How exactly Severus had reconciled her existence and his immunity to Voldemort's wrath to the Dark Lord, Bilia didn't know, but he was a fully active Death Eater again, usually late at night, and after a week, Bilia was finally invited to meet with the Order of the Phoenix._ _

__All stared at her with open curiosity, when she arrived._ _

__"Yes, I _am_ rather ugly, but please don't allow that to cause you to be rude," she told them all, watching many of them blush and look away. "One of those unfortunate acts of birth. Professor Dumbledore went so far as to suggest I might not be entirely human, which was a step _too_ far, in my opinion," and she smiled upon the bright figure at the head of the kitchen table._ _

__"My apologies for the suggestion, although I do not consider being other than human to be any sort of an insult," he told her. "It was not your looks, but your magic I was curious about."_ _

__"Snape kept you quiet," said Moody. He was suspicious, naturally._ _

__"Well, he has so many friends he is eager to talk to, all the time," she said, smiling at the only wizard present uglier than her husband. "I didn't wish to be paraded about, and so I wasn't paraded about, but _now_ , we have an immortal Dark Lord causing trouble, who needs very much to be put out of the way, so that we can go about our normal business."_ _

__"Indeed, that is why we are all here," said Dumbledore. "Do, please take a seat." Other than a change of fine robes and beard-trinket, he was exactly as she had last seen him._ _

__"If the master of the house invites me to, I shall," she told him with a smile. "Otherwise, I prefer to stand. Manners, you know."_ _

__"Well, really!" said Molly Weasley, shocked. "And who exactly are you, when you're at home?"_ _

__"Severus Snape's beloved wife," she told Molly. "I'm not a Death Eater. The Dark Lord irritates me."_ _

__"Irritates," said Moody._ _

__"He's autocratic and altogether too dark and bloody to be liked," she told him sweetly. "I don't suppose you like him much either."_ _

__"You'd better sit down," said Sirius, who had just been murmured to by Dumbledore._ _

__"Thank you, Mr Black," she said. "It's very kind of you to offer a portion of your home to all of us." She opened her bag and took out knitting, smiling at Mrs Figg, and began working upon a grass-green scarf with silver and white daisies knitted in. Her pattern was a list of numbers and letters she marked off as she went down it._ _

__"Alastor, seal the door and grate, now that we are all here," said Dumbledore, taking charge._ _

__Bilia offered Sirius a meaningful smile, looked at her husband, who was standing against a wall, and at him again._ _

__Sirius set out a chair. "Sit down, Snape," he said, with ill grace._ _

__Severus stepped forward and sat with a cold dignity._ _

__Bilia smiled again and went back to her knitting, the mirror of Mrs Figg across the table._ _

__"That's us secure," Moody said. He, too, was offered a chair and took it, thumping down into it._ _

__"All of us are here with the same aim in mind, and Mrs Snape has offered us sterling service, as has Severus," said Dumbledore. "We are all on the same side and you all have my trust. Dark times are upon us, and we must work together, even if, ordinarily, we would not get along. Remus, have you been able to get anywhere?"_ _

__Lupin shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "I've found some werewolves, but it'll be a slow job being accepted." Where others had wine in front of them, he was drinking water, although from the same antique goblin-made goblet._ _

__"I'm sure you'll get there in time," said Dumbledore. "Hagrid, as you all know, is speaking to the Gurg, that is, the leader of a clan of giants, and enjoying some success. Mundungus, any new rumours you wish to share?"_ _

__Dung was trying, and failing, to light a pipe, and he put it down. "Nothing about You-Know-Who being around," he told Dumbledore. "They're saying Harry Potter's a loony. No offence, Sirius, that's what they're saying," he added hastily._ _

__"None taken, I'm sure," said Dumbledore. "You can only report the facts. Harry is in good spirits, I hope, Arabella?"_ _

__Mrs Figg looked up from her knitting. "Yes, he's fine," she told them all. "He lounges around a lot in the garden, but then the weather's very hot just now."_ _

__Bilia smiled, and looked back down at a knitting pattern and drumming her fingers as she did. Then she took up again, her needles clicking busily._ _

__Severus tapped a finger on the tabletop, and kept listening. Neither of the pair were involved in the conversation. Until, suddenly he was._ _

__"Severus, do you have anything to report?" Dumbledore asked._ _

__Sirius Black was given a long, direct look by Bilia, one intense enough that he decided to drink from his goblet instead of saying anything he might have been going to._ _

__"The Dark Lord required that I slaughter a muggle as proof that I am still loyal," said Severus, shocking them all greatly. "He is satisfied that I serve him well. Wormtail is dead, Nagini alive and well. His snake familiar."_ _

__"Good riddance," said Sirius. "I wanted to kill him myself, but I'll take what I can get."_ _

__"Sirius!" said Molly, shocked. "You can't mean that."_ _

__"He betrayed James, so, yes, I can," said Sirius. "Kreacher! Wine for all of us."_ _

__"Whiskey for me," said Dung at once._ _

__"Fine then. Drinks all round."_ _

__Now it was Severus who was the recipient of a long stare from Bilia, and who poured himself, and his wife, a small amount each of garnet-coloured wine._ _

__She regarded the label. "Ooh, the good stuff," she said, twice because Molly was shouting. As with the painting, she ignored the noise. "You _are_ being kind, Mr Black."_ _

__"Is it?" he said, and looked at the label. "I don't really care."_ _

__"It is a very fine vintage," said Severus. He drank from his glass. "Well kept."_ _

__Dung was already setting his ears on fire, while the others sipped appreciatively._ _

__"I didn't know you cared about wine, Snape," said Moody. "I suppose Malfoy is why. You know, your best friend from school."_ _

__Sirius scowled at that._ _

__" _I_ care about wine,' said Bilia, firmly. "You're sowing discord within the alliance, why is that, Mr Moody? Do you not wish us to succeed after all?" Now her tone was Umbridge-sweet._ _

__"Once a dark wizard, always a dark wizard," said Moody. "I don't trust him."_ _

__"Well, we're all in a great deal of trouble if that's true," said Bilia and smiled upon Dumbledore._ _

__"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Moody, bristling._ _

__"Severus has my complete trust," said Dumbledore, smiling upon them. "We will all put that conversation aside and concentrate upon our reason for being here. Has he shared anything of his plans?"_ _

__"Not yet," said Severus. "I'm to spy upon you, obviously, Albus," and he sipped his wine._ _

__"Reporting everything you see and hear," said Moody._ _

__"Hardly," said Severus._ _

__"I am sure you will only share that which will not harm our cause," said Dumbledore in a soothing tone, one hand on his beard. "Kingsley, what of the Minister?"_ _

__"He won't be budged," said Kingsley. "This is, indeed, very fine wine, Sirius. Nothing further to report."_ _

__"Then we can only carry on as we have been doing," said Dumbledore. "Arthur, if you can arrange shifts with Kingsley, Sturgis and Nymphadora, and Alastor, if you can work with the rest of the Advance Guard to keep Harry safe. Mrs Snape, I'm afraid I don't know your first name."_ _

__"No, that's true," she said. "It's no prettier than the rest of me. Are you offering your own in exchange, Professor Dumbledore?"_ _

__"You can't talk to him like that!" said Mrs Weasley. "He's an important wizard!" She glared at Bilia, openly hostile._ _

__"I'm nobody's servant, Mrs Weasley," said Bilia, putting down her knitting. "Do, please, remember that in the future, before you decide to shout at me, won't you?" Her smile wasn't remotely pleasant._ _

__"If you don't mind, Molly," said Dumbledore with a much more pleasant smile than Bilia could manage, and she subsided. "I'm sure Molly meant nothing of the sort," he told Bilia._ _

__"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard," said Mrs Weasley, still deeply affronted, her wand not quite ready to use. "Who are you when you're at home?"_ _

__"Still Severus Snape's beloved wife," said Bilia. She smiled and drank her wine, savouring it. "On a teacher's salary, shared between the two of us, we could never afford such a luxurious wine. This is a princely gift, Mr Black."_ _

__"As if Snape ever loved anyone," said Moody, and had his wand up at the next moment, blood dripping from his face. The goblet of wine was sat on the table, and Moody was against the wall with Bilia right in front of him._ _

__"Do not insult my husband," she told him, looking into and through both eyes. "It irritates me."_ _

__"IF YOU WILL ALL SIT DOWN," said Dumbledore, and people did, cowed, including Bilia. "I am sure Alastor will not be insulting to your husband again, Mrs Snape." He spoke into an otherwise silent room._ _

__"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," said Bilia. "Should we all drink a toast to the Dark Lord's final death, hopefully not too long into the future?"_ _

__"That sounds good to me," said Sirius._ _

__"That would not be wise," said Dumbledore. "Although the sentiment is appreciated."_ _

__"We don't know who she is or where she came from," Mrs Weasley grumbled._ _

__Moody was silent, and no longer bleeding._ _

__"I will thank you not to insult my wife," said Severus. "Or is Albus Dumbledore's good word no longer enough for you?" He was sneering, as he so often did when riled._ _

__Bilia finished her glass._ _

__"Indeed, we are all of one mind," said Dumbledore. "I think we had better call this meeting at an end."_ _

* * *

__"Black was almost polite," said Bilia, after they had washed the greasy feeling the meeting had left them with away, and oiled their hair. "I'll keep working on him. Mrs Weasley is an actual cunt, neither more nor less."_ _

__"That was my own impression," said Severus. "An open mouth and an open pair of legs. You didn't stop her."_ _

__"Short of killing her, I doubt I can," said Bilia, pulling blankets over them both. "As a woman, I have licence to hit wizards for insulting my husband, and she isn't _actually_ insulting you. Nor are either of us insulting Mr Weasley or her children when she's around." She sighed. "Nor Potter, this time," she said. "Keep the hatred within school."_ _

__"You can be the one to teach him Occlumency," said Severus. "I refuse to put myself through that again." He looked at the empty mantle into a miserable past, his arms folded over the grey embroidered eiderdown._ _

__"We'll examine the order you're given for loopholes," she told him, stroking his hair. She kissed his forehead. "Mrs Figg is a big fat liar."_ _

__"You said, at the table," said Severus, looking at her now with curiosity. "What did you get?"_ _

__"He isn't lounging, he's hiding, in the flowerbed, wearing rags, listening at his own sitting-room window," she told him. "She has invited him to visit and he doesn't go, so that's his own idiot fault. She's not good enough for him, probably. I wasn't."_ _

__"That still qualifies as lounging," said Severus. "Another person protecting him from his own actions."_ _

__"Rags, Severus."_ _

__"I'm supposed to hate him."_ _

__"Only because Dumbledore says so, the same one who told you to protect him, then raised him to be slaughtered," said Bilia firmly. "Let's keep a clear head. He'll be dead soon enough, but we can save Potter."_ _

__"He won't be grateful."_ _

__"If Black began to reconcile towards you, Moody would stop him, and call him disloyal for doing so," said Bilia. "Black's going to want to get out, and he has the means, unless he quietly handed them over."_ _

__"He won't. He's likely to sneak over to see the brat and get caught doing it."_ _

__"Yes... and no," she said, adjusting a pillow and looking up at him. "Yes, to the sneaking, no to the getting caught. What we know is that Potter's little trouble-causing friends were brought into the house after about ten days of holiday, and Potter himself wasn't brought over until he was attacked by Dementors sent by Umbridge."_ _

__"I'm not going to act against her," said Severus, gazing upon her. "Not this time. Do we just keep doing this forever?" He turned over in bed, leaning on an elbow._ _

__"I don't know," Bilia said, still admiring him from beneath. "If we do, there's still good wine and sex and picnics on the beach, and magic in all its forms. The Dark Lord still isn't giving you trouble over me?"_ _

__"If anything, it has increased my standing," said Severus. "No one else knows of you, and when I meet him, it will be in private."_ _

__"He can't risk getting angry and revealing that he can't touch you," said Bilia. "If your meetings are private, you can reveal that he is obsessed with getting into the Department of Mysteries for some great prize."_ _

__Severus considered this, stroking her arm as he did. "Yes," he said. "Dumbledore will not be surprised to hear that. Do you think it will pacify his collection of morons?"_ _

__"I can't, unfortunately, disintegrate Molly Weasley," she told him. "Nor can we set her up to be killed. Not easily... she does go shopping... and, _if_ Mr Weasley gets bitten again, which is a big if, then she'll be at the hospital on Christmas Day. I can go and rescue Bode that same day."_ _

__"That will certainly change things, since he might live long enough to speak," said Severus. "That gives us Yaxley." He shiften down the bed, making it creak, and rested against his wife's soft breasts, while she stroked his neck and played with the soft hairs at the nape._ _

__"It would, if Dumbledore's plans didn't so much depend upon the Ministry falling *just* as Potter turns seventeen," she told him, her eyes on her hands. "Perhaps Bode will be killed some other way before he recovers."_ _

__"Perhaps, in which case it will be moot, but you can at least try, while I retain an alibi." He was looking at the mantle again._ _

__"Let's get one another to sleep," she suggested. "After a nice large breakfast, we might have better ideas."_ _

* * *

__Breakfast was late, and followed by setting something that looked like a board game and wasn't._ _

__"Weasleys...." Bilia said, setting in place pawns that were different sizes. Two were tied together with a thin piece of orange cord. The black pawn needed no explanation, then a pink one and a brown, scuffed one._ _

__"The wolf."_ _

__"Off out of the way and married to the pink klutz..."_ _

__Shacklebolt was gold, for a king, Dumbledore red, Harry Potter green and on another part of the board. Dung was a darker brown._ _

__"Arrested for pretending to be an inferus, scaring one poor family out of their wits and trying to profit by the war, Severus," Bilia said, looking at his piece with dislike and setting it by a blue piece, not too far from the section of the board with the red piece in the middle._ _

__"I already despise him; you don't need to persuade me," said Severus. "Who is blue?"_ _

__"The landlord at the Hog's Head." Podmore, pale yellow and next to the 'king' piece. Moody, made of plain wood. Jones, pale yellow too, but nowhere near the 'Ministry' section. Doge in lilac, put next to Shacklebolt's piece._ _

__"The know-it-all..."_ _

__A parchment-coloured pawn put by the Weasleys, currently piled around the Black piece._ _

__She set up a ring of likely pieces around Potter, the Advance guard. "Can't let the little piggy escape," she said._ _

__"You feel sorry for him," Severus accused her._ _

__"He's fourteen, nearly fifteen years old, and set up to die... I don't _like_ him, Severus, but look at the facts. You know someone should have cared for you at that age and didn't, and that it was wrong._ _

__"He's surrounded by people who care." Severus flicked at the pale brown piece, representing Mrs Figg, that stuck in place._ _

__"One," said Bilia. "I'll see how the two get on. It might be blackmail material later."_ _

__"They all dote on him," Severus sneered._ _

__Bilia put her hand on the table and Severus covered it with his. "No one dotes on us," she said, moving her chair and leaning into him._ _

__He kissed her too-wide forehead. "Luckily, we dote on each other," he said softly._ _

__"Mm...." and a deep sigh. 'Life can't always be wonderful sex, sadly.'_ _

__"Are we getting anywhere with this?" Severus said, waving at the board._ _

__"I think so, yes, actually," she said, looking at the bright points of colour between the grey lines etched into a glossy black surface, in this plainest of plain dining rooms. "Let's mark them for death with a bead of ivory."_ _

__Soon done._ _

__"If _this_ one can mark a boy for death and the wizard closest to him, day to day, is up to that minute convinced that this one dotes on the boy and wishes him nothing but well...."_ _

__"Then he can set up others," said Severus. "My piece is missing.' He put it in place, dark purple, and set a bead atop it. It stood in the castle next to Dumbledore._ _

__"Always on hand, and no one questions that it's _always_ you," she said. "The affair with four names coming out of the cup should have been a clue. Then you died, and it really was absolutely awful. The legends do not lie."_ _

__"Life has been very sweet since," he said, nuzzling her neck._ _

__She put her head back and let him bite a little. "Ohh.... that's enough, leave me some brain left to work with," she muttered, not stopping him._ _

__He sat back up and looked at the board, and let out his own sigh and leaned on her. Sat side by side like this, they were of a height. Easily towered over by Black._ _

__"The wand," he said, as if things had just clicked into place. "The Dark Lord came after the wand and killed me because I had control of it, and he _thought_ that, because I was set up to kill..." He put an ivory bead on the red piece. "Even himself..."_ _

__She took it off again. "The portrait," she said._ _

__"That's not him."_ _

__"Isn't it? He can place memories in a bowl, and kept you dancing to his tune. He didn't die and fail to be able to pass on instructions."_ _

__"Where's Minerva?"_ _

__"That's the question," said Bilia, putting in a pale green piece next to the larger red one. "All those meetings with you and piggy, where was his Head of House?"_ _

__"With her head down and buried in paperwork," he said, turning pale green to parchment. He flicked the smaller parchment pawn. "The two are alike."_ _

__"I wonder if she had her hand up every minute, when she was in school," Bilia said, tapping the larger parchment piece. "Any of the rest could have died in battle..."_ _

__"They're all expendable."_ _

__"This one," the wooden piece, Moody, "was betrayed by this one," the dung-coloured pawn. "This one was dramatically rescued by that link piggy has, that's supposed to be closed..."_ _

__"He won't listen."_ _

__"That much is obvious to anyone paying attention. He has no reason to trust you. You do not wish him well. Would you have accepted occlumency training from Moody?"_ _

__"Hardly."_ _

__"These children are largely predictable... whatever we do, they will eavesdrop... there's literally no reason for the orange team to be where they are."_ _

__"They surround the black pawn."_ _

__"Parchment small is being kept with them, why? What is she there for?"_ _

__Severus watched the board, eyes moving from one piece to another. "To be her counterpart for the younger set," he said, pointing at McGonagall's piece. "On hand and useful for doing research."_ _

__"They can't, this time, be kept busy cleaning up. I'll pop round and see if I would be a welcome guest, and see what they're all up to," she said. "No more poor little assistant, that part's been played and didn't get anywhere. Piggy would notice and remember me and tell someone."_ _

__"He doesn't love anyone," Severus said, and picked up the red piece, turning it in his hand and putting it back again. "It's difficult to remember when he's there."_ _

__She hugged him. "Nor do you need to, love," she said fondly. "Not until you come back here and we can put our minds in order. We're cut off from the other side, but I don't consider that a bad thing. I noticed something about that report you gave this lot." She waved at the pawns and sat back up again._ _

__"Oh?" Severus said, interested and sitting up straight again himself, all business now._ _

__"The Dark Lord require that I slaughter a muggle... no one asked about the muggle, or thought about him or her again."_ _

__"I certainly try not to," Severus said, and took her hand. "It was quick, I saw to that at least. He wanted the dead body brought to him, very freshly dead."_ _

__"Shall we mourn this dead muggle?" Bilia suggested. "It might put their spirit to rest."_ _

__"I will hold a ceremony," Severus said, his eyes distant. "Not now," and he looked at her again. "Hallowe'en, it's fitting."_ _

__"It is," she agreed. "I'm glad you want to, Severus. I'd rather you not be ashamed and hiding things, not when someone knows you and loves you anyway."_ _

__He looked stricken, his eyes watery, and nodded, a tear falling down his unlovely face. They held each other a while and rested there by the table, then she tidied him back up again and kissed his hands. "I love you."_ _

__"I love you too," he said, and smiled at her. "I do." As ever, he seemed mildly surprised at his own declaration._ _

__"He, either of them, have no idea how it feels or what to do about it," she told him. "To love and trust someone that well. To have someone to go back to. Hold on to that idea. They are alone, you are not."_ _

__"Piggy goes back to team orange." As though they had never existed, his feelings had been shut off._ _

__Bilia was just as casual. "Piggy does, and does not see being with the youngest as incest. That's rather disturbing if they are as his parents, but are they? Or only the parents of his best friend?"_ _

__"She mothers him constantly."_ _

__"They weren't connected before school..." Bilia settled in her well-cushioned chair with only a quick dusting charm at the green shade above the table in passing, and settled her gaze on the glossy black board again._ _

__"Fabian and Gideon Prewett, her twin brothers, were in the Order the last time. They died, obviously." Their own fault, his voice said._ _

__Bilia, looking at the board, made the connection. "Fred and George... the walking cunt is very sentimental. Very well, then, family is her entire identity, she's a mother through and through, protecting her own. That might make her slightly more bearable. I shall remind her of her manners as a child in polite company. The wizards I can hit—"_ _

__"Moody will be ready for you the next time." He looked to make sure his warning was taken seriously._ _

__She smiled at him, and only looked more hideous. "He really won't," she said with certainty. "I had his blood on my hand and a full measure of his magic."_ _

__"I don't suppose you kept it?"_ _

__"Red would not have liked it. I'd love to have a drop to every piece, my love, but who knows that it would not be picked up? Symbols will have to do."_ _

__"You know I tried to save Draco."_ _

__"That young idiot," she said with a snort. "He's everything you said James was, you know that."_ _

__A muscle twitched in Severus's cheek as he stared, his face pale. She didn't drop her gaze, nor actually challenge him. Her expression was fond. The stare continued for a long time, his eyes moving away as he thought, and back, again and again. Then his shoulders dropped. "I'm fond of him," he admitted. "I wanted... he's very good at Potions and... until the last two years... he'd have grown out of it, and he was never cut out to be a Death Eater, Bilia, you know that. It was childish puffery. The Marauders were far worse, you have to believe me."_ _

__"I'll take that detention you gave Potter in the end," she said. "Those records do have to be updated. Potter can be around, doing something else."_ _

__"He isn't getting hold of that book."_ _

__"Naturally... or if he is, fewer curses will be in it."_ _

__"If I can find it in time..."_ _

__Bilia looked into his face fondly, reached across the table and traced the lines with her fingers, adoring him. "Slughorn has it," she said. "That plan was laid out long ago. Piggy will lie, even when he has nearly killed someone, and cheat and steal... Sorry, but not sorry enough. I'll track down Slughorn and have him killed, once I've torn apart his entire mind back to childhood. That accursed book is probably in red's hands..."_ _

__"Leave the slug."_ _

__She nodded and sat up, all business. "Yes, my husband," she said, her voice warm. "May I enquire why? This is your life we are playing with, I have not forgotten."_ _

__"I would rather he teach Potions that final year, and have the blood-red one not set someone else up to take the fall. I didn't die upon leaving the post." He took the piece and changed it from a bright and cheery cherry colour to deep blood red and set it back. "Lest we forget," he said._ _

__"No mass slaughter of annoyances then. We are, within our limits, good people."_ _

__"I lost my taste for it. I wonder that you did not," he said, more distant now, studying his wife._ _

__"I was only along for the ride, Severus," she told him. "I wasn't there in any meaningful way. I remember... I know what happened, but as if I'd seen it in a pensieve. So... the number of distinct, meaningful locations is limited. Homes coloured as the pawns..."_ _

__A few routes and it looked like a game board in fact - a broad line with distinct squares making a path between the Burrow and Order Headquarters, another to a white square near the black one, to be St Mungo's; red for Hogwarts next to blue for Hogsmeade; green distant from every other square and Mrs Figg put in, pale blue changed to a faded reddish pink; a path to green and a path to the black square. Green was on its own, orange too, and other homes. They had an idea now of where people would likely to head to, if they were in one place and something happened._ _

__"The Dark Lord would pay handsomely for this," Severus said. "The blood-red one would decry its very existence."_ _

__"God forbid his trusted spy begins thinking," Bilia said with a fond smile in her voice. "Nothing happened to the wooden house, did it? The pawn fell down, and blood-red was stuck on the home square, although not out of the game. His tomb becomes another lure to bring the Dark Lord back to the blood-red square..."_ _

__"Appropriate," said Severus._ _

__"Indeed. The Heads of Houses, we'll have them parchment-coloured as well, but for you, different in shape and size... those insisted he wanted to be buried in the grounds, no Headmasters were before he was. He knew what he was doing, Severus, and what the results would be."_ _

__"Death on a bloody battlefield."_ _

__"They have parchment homes as well... so does Parchment Small... there. Then another pawn in forest green... and his giant brother..."_ _

__"Usefully out of the way and tying Hagrid to the school even when I am Headmaster."_ _

__"Not loyally, I remember."_ _

__"Far from it. We ignored one another. He was not... pleased."_ _

__"No, he wasn't, was he? Replace him with Grubbly-Plank. She can at least actually teach. I'll keep the Carrows in line - Hogwarts will be safe, Severus, or you'll answer to me,' she said, meeting his eyes."_ _

__"Yes, my wife," he said, amused._ _

__"Severus..."_ _

__"Yes. I shall shepherd the little brats as my dearly beloved flock." He sounded entirely sarcastic._ _

__"People have to not want to go back to the bad old days, before you were in charge. It's not your fault the Ministry and the Board of Governors put you in place."_ _

__"We let the blood-red plans get that far?"_ _

__"I suggested befriending team orange and black and you did not leap upon the idea with suggestions. The plan is for piggy to die, suicide by Dark Lord. I can remove the reason for piggy - I will bet you that in the piggy's forehead is a soul piece, put there by the death of James Potter."_ _

__"Not Lily?" he said, considering the idea._ _

__"What do you think?"_ _

__"Not Lily," he decided. "She died to protect Potter... sacrificed herself." He was distant again, eyes locked on the game pieces._ _

__"And blood-red scooped up the little piggy and hid him with disgusting muggles with a squib for a keeper, and fully supports his friendship with team orange, and thwarts team black from getting close to him, locks team black away... Therefore..."_ _

__"Team Black is on a different side to Team Orange and Team Blood-red. The wolf is on Team Black."_ _

__"Is he? I mean... clearly he _was_ , or perhaps blood-red knew all along what was happening and let things play out... We have another piece, the seer, and then the horse... he protected the seer... he didn't protect the forest green piece, he went to Azkaban..."_ _

__"And he was cleared of blame for the incident with Moaning Myrtle and had his wand returned to him."_ _

__"Just in time for Silvanus to retire with his remaining limbs... 'Dear Silvanus, if you stay, I am not sure it will be safe for you...'"_ _

__"That would put Silvanus on another team," Severus said thoughtfully._ _

__Bilia made two silver pieces, putting them in the blood red square at opposite ends. One had a bulge at the back, the other was just a small silver pawn. "Our seers. It would, Severus, if he still lived. Has anyone checked?"_ _

__"There has been no announcement," said Severus. "I shall send an owl and find out."_ _

__"Owls can be intercepted, handwriting copied."_ _

__"I'll arrange a meeting. Draco should not be having his lessons so close to Hagrid's hut, and I wish to know how Silvanus managed things so that I can— so that Lucius can properly put forward a complaint. I can send the owl from Malfoy Manor, even present this as a scheme to the Dark Lord."_ _

__"He does not forbid you keep in touch with old friends?"_ _

__"Not thus far."_ _

__"The only route permitted between the green square and the black is by broom..."_ _

__Severus erased the path between 12, Grimmauld Place and St Mungo's. "And the route between the black and white squares is by car. The square is more cut off than we have realised."_ _

__"The pink square has three pieces on it, but only one is in the game."_ _

__"A safe house that I do not know about.... the wooden square as well," Severus realised._ _

__"He didn't trust you as much as he pretends. As soon as you murder him, at his orders, then you make a sacrifice of yourself. He could not have set up the Unbreakable vow."_ _

__Severus laughed. "Oh my dear, imagine Bellatrix visiting to put pressure on me with you present... _that_ will be worth the bloody horror on its own."_ _

__"A witch who is not even slightly afraid of her and is on your side. She will not like that at all," Bilia said with a smile. "It will be hilarious if she goes running to the Dark Lord to declare that you are a traitor and have a wife."_ _

__Severus got up gave her a smacking kiss, and looked alive with mischief, a puckish figure from a woodcut about the tempting devil. "She would. Narcissa will be polite and desperate." He leaned over her chair now._ _

__Bilia leaned back a little, eyes on the board. "Piggy very nearly killed his rival, but didn't quite. In this case, dear husband, piggy is you and little Draco is James, only on different sides of the war." She looked back and up at him._ _

__"I did not have a Firebolt broom, nor a family watching over me."_ _

__"No... but nor does he at the minute. His family, the one at the place he is forced to call home, loathe him. You know yourself how that wears a person down."  
He frowned, and she stood and rested her forehead on his, until he sighed. "Very well, at home his is a figure to be pitied."_ _

__"Finally you see what the black piece sees, and wants to change. Team Orange go along with it, all the guarding pieces do, including the squib. She lied deliberately to make him seem more comfortable than he is. Dung... I'll get Dung's blood since he's the useful traitor. Even you were told to set him up that way."_ _

__"The attack by Dementors... you think he and Umbridge...?"_ _

__"May I rip his shabby little mind apart?"_ _

__"Why so eager to rip into people's minds, my love?" he asked, taking her hands between his own, his tone gently questioning._ _

__"No reason,' she said. 'It is an impulse, gathering the blood-red one's plans before they happen. He is all that is vile, just as the slug left rather too conveniently."_ _

__He watched her for a while. "Court the piggy," he said. "Go through Team Black. Turn up to see if there is anything you can do or fetch, and stress that it cannot be related to the war effort, since they have no reason to trust you, but you _are_ able to go shopping abroad..."_ _

__"Wonderful. One housewife speaking to another... yes, my love, I can do that."_ _

__"Do not compare yourself to that cunt, Bilia."_ _

__"I wasn't. What is the black pawn now, other than a housekeeper?"_ _

__He huffed a laugh and kissed her hands, letting them go. "I suppose you will not allow me to make the comparison to his face."_ _

__"Manners, my husband, I insist on manners. Trickle, trickle goes the water on the stone. Compare and contrast the Snapes, who love one another dearly, to the Weasleys, who claim a monopoly— and there we have it, a piece of the puzzle has clicked into place."_ _

__"Go on?" Severus said, sounding only mildly interested._ _

__Bilia took a calming breath and smiled. "The pink one's parents are a loving couple, a family. _All_ the Order in that place are single. The cunt is not only the mother, she is the archetype, the example of a mother. She even has red hair."_ _

__"You think another mother would ruin his plans?"_ _

__"Indeed. It's only 1995, he dies in May by the old plans. Let them sit on shakier foundations than he realises. _Just_ Black, then, to start with."_ _

__She set herself down, dark purple, on a purple square, with a path to a square that was still black, outlined in grey, and a path to the larger blood red square dotted with various pawns, mostly parchment-coloured._ _

__"There we have it," Severus said. "I have my own place in the castle and my own piece in play. Each colour looks out only for itself... I am not sure about the parchment team."_ _

__"Blood red then. We can tell them apart." She saw to it._ _

__"That is closer to the state of the game," he agreed. "What of the dream team?"_ _

__"Persuading green to be honorary orange? He isn't though, and part of him has to know that. We can set up counters to represent influence."_ _

__"Then we assume that this one influences for this team." He indicated Hermione and one of the Hogwarts staff._ _

__"Instead, we put blood red counters on the home square and turn her to parchment. There are invisible pieces on her square too..." The piece that had been pale green, then blood red, was now parchment. A parchment square was set up, erased._ _

__Severus put it back. "We'll put them there then, and the pink square, that should have three."_ _

__"If she isn't actually Team Wood."_ _

__"No, that's an influence only, she _lives_ on that home square. Lots of orange influence on Team Green, blood red, parchment... Team Parchment is more influenced by blood-red than Team Green is influenced by parchment... numbers on the counters indicate years... a scoreboard in the corner..."_ _

__They worked upon it, standing hand in hand, and gazed upon the resulting board for a while when they had done. "It looks very like an actual game," Severus said._ _

__"One we can put inside a case and if it happens to be seen, it will mean little. We'll have a few games. I can bring some to Black to help him entertain his... guests."_ _

__"Being kind to the poor dear fellow," Severus said, his voice dripping sarcasm._ _

__"The innocent little woolly lamb that he is," she agreed. "The black sheep of the family. You and I see the teeth beneath the fleece. Now I have a reason to visit and a kindness to do. I'll bake scones and make fresh jam and bring raspberries picked from the hedgerow and get fresh cream. The fresh raspberries will remind him what he is missing. I'll have a basket with a gingham cloth on top, red and white squares."_ _

__"Enjoy yourself, my love,' he said and kissed her cheek. 'I, myself, am going abroad to get ingredients while I still can."_ _

__"I love you."_ _

__"I love you too."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After comments I've had that say the game is hard to follow,
> 
> If you lose track of which colour is which person, let me know which and I can add a description to that chapter and piece, as well as replying so you don't need to reread the whole thing.


	5. Trying to be Nice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Bilia Snape isn't universally trusted.

Bilia was in a very good mood and all her finery when she sent a raven through the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. "I'm outside with fresh baked scones and no one to eat them with."

Black let her in, and she smiled and followed him, shaking her head when he would have gone to the kitchen. 

He took her to the dining room, and she tutted at the new deep scratches and scuffs on what had been a slab of deeply polished rich walnut. "Let me just sort out the table, and I'll set this out," she said. "I'll talk you through it, repairing would be something to do."

"Are you here to cheat on your husband, or to spy for him?" Black asked, in an overly casual not-actually-joking sort of way. His wand was dangling in his hand, and somewhat behind him when she glanced at it and back at his face.

She stayed matter-of-fact, her basket held in both hands. "Neither. He's away, abroad, gathering potions ingredients, no doubt for some disgusting thing, and you're alone, but not my type, and I dislike the ugly expression he wears at the mention of your name. I thought, stuck inside all summer, you might be bored and brought the picnic I would normally share with my much-beloved and _not_ cheated-upon husband. I took vows, Mr Black, and I meant them."

"Sirius," Sirius said. "Leave the table." He was in a sulk again, and it made him a great deal less handsome.

"I'm not eating at that," she told him, her tone very definite. "Look at it. We have enough magic between us that we both deserve better. You might be stuck in a _house_ , Mr Black, but you can at least not be stuck in a hovel."

He stared at her.

She gave a reassuring smile. Probably it had the opposite effect but it did warm her voice as she scolded him affectionately. "I'm on your side, Mr Black, but I will not call you Sirius until you are enough of a friend to sit me down at a _decent_ table. Or did your mood not improve even slightly after I put the work in the first time?"

"Fine," he said, amused, his shoulders relaxing. "Have it your way. What do I do?" Once again, his mood was changed upon the instant, and he looked interested now.

"Listen to a lecture with your full attention for less than five minutes, then cast a spell," she said. " _Full_ attention, I'll be leading your mind down the right path to make it easy. Then the table will be mended and you'll remember very well for next time, without hour upon hour of tedious practice. Do close and lock the door if you please."

He did and she spoke, soft hypnotic words, lulling him, until, in almost a dreamy fashion, he cast, and the table was bright and gleaming once more.

He blinked. "You hypnotised me!" he accused.

"Mildly, yes, but believe me, Sirius, had I moved onto any subject other than the table, you would have dropped from your trance then and there, and been quite rightfully angry. Now you can put yourself there again in no more than five minutes, and _just_ now the scones have not yet gone cold. They were in the oven when he left." She set out the usual picnic, and pulled out a box. "We're not friends, so I brought a simple board game in lieu of conversation," she said, still smiling. "Severus does not always wish to talk."

The door was opened again 'for propriety' and soon there were whispers and sniggers in the hall. Bilia glanced that way, shook her head and ignored them. "A game for two to six players, the aim being to end up with six pieces on the home square," she told Sirius. "Pieces have to be earned and can be lost. I thought it looked like fun, what do you think?"

"It beats sitting around," Sirius said, reading through the glossy leaflet with moving pictures demonstrating moves. "This doesn't look like-- like Snape's sort of thing."

Bilia sensed, rather than saw the fleshy, oozing tendrils creeping round the edge of the open door at floor level. "You'd be surprised," she told her host. "He's a very warm, loving human being when he's at home."

A choking sound outside.

"He's a Death Eater." Sirius glanced at the door and ignored the sound.

"The raspberry jam is fresh, I'll eat first obviously, and the fresh raspberries picked from the hedgerow only this morning. The tea is a blend, my own personal preference." Bilia set up her own plate and sank her teeth into the scone.

"You're telling me he goes off and—"

"Does vile things to keep the Headmaster happy and then comes back and has a long, hot bath and allows me to bring him back into humanity, yes. His role at Hogwarts is a part he plays before a thousand pairs of eyes, and who knows how many report back."

"It's not Dumbledore he's keeping happy."

"It's on his orders that he acts, Sirius, never think otherwise," said Bilia. "I married him on the strict understanding that he obeyed another. Well, two, now, but the Headmaster comes first."

Sirius scowled. "He was dark before he even got to Hogwarts." His hand dropped under the table again.

Bilia's smile only deepened, and her eyes stayed on the table. "We don't talk about his schooldays. I'm sure as a Death Eater he's _very_ dark, but there is nothing disgusting about the house I keep and I'll thank you to not imply there is."

"I'd like to see it."

Bilia looked at him, pushing the tea across. "Yes, but you've been given orders to stay within these four walls, haven't you?" she said, her tone kind at least. "I'll bring little touches of the outdoors when I can, if you think it'll brighten things for you."

"Lilies," he said. "Fresh lilies. Not the white ones. Yellow." He bit a scone and washed it down with good tea, a nod to the flavour.

"Freesias too?"

"If you like, but lilies." His mood changed again, as he looked at the game with an unfocused gaze, a scone sitting disregarded in her hand.

"I'll make an arrangement. It passes the time. As many lilies as I can afford."

"I'll pay for them," was the immediate reply. He glanced at her.

"Thank you, Sirius, that will make things easier. Two galleons is plenty. Now... given the _complete_ lack of trust between our two families, I can't do anything that can be used for the war effort or to harm others, but I can go shopping abroad and pick things up you can't easily get. Harmless things."

"Real chocolate eclairs..." he said instantly, in an echo of the hopefulness he'd shown at the prospect of losing the screaming portrait. Out of his sulk completely, his hopes were once again fixed on Bilia.

She gave a smiling nod, her voice as warm as she could make it. "I can make those, unless there's a baker you need to go to."

"There is, I'll write it down. I'd kill to have a plate of those again and real coffee..." He looked wistful, then ate more of the scone and drank more tea, before examining the jam and the small punnet of raspberries.

"I'll be glad to go, especially if it's Paris." She could look forward to that, as a treat, her voice said.

"I can pay for a port-key." Sirius was picking up the jam-spoon, but his mind was on eclairs.

"Goodness, Sirius, it's only across the channel," she said amused, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Anyway, I'd rather nosy people weren't watching my movements, given that I don't exactly have an apparition licence, not being a registered witch." 

Neither were reacting to the whispering going on outside the room.

"Why not?" Sirius asked, curious about her now. He picked up his tea again and drank a good portion just as she did.

She put her cup down again. "I don't need to be, to be happy. No family expectations hanging over my head, so I didn't need to be a good girl and go to school."

"You're self-taught?" he asked in open astonishment.

She laughed. "Largely," she said. "Thankfully, I have an instinct for what will kill me if I try. The wand's a useful guide, it adds finesse or focus. Severus bought me a proper wand for a wedding present. I borrowed his mother's before that." She reached for the jam,

Sirius passed it across and took a raspberry. "How did you meet?" he said. "You seem far too... nice to be his type."

"Until someone insults his name," she said with a smile, hands busy with her scone. "I do love him, you know, and he loves me." She ate while faint retching sounds echoed from outside.

"You really do, don't you?" Sirius said, puzzled. The tea was very calming.

"I don't let him rant and rave and throw tantrums, and now he's out of the habit," she said. "He found a witch with nowhere to go who wasn't at all disgusted at him, and I made a home for him, he married me for the sake of convenience and then we fell in love when it turned out that we exactly suited one another. I keep a nice house, not like this one, but not covered in images of tortured muggles either. Plain colours mostly - he isn't a flowers or gilt-edging sort of person and I'm more worried about food than patterned prints."

"Then why the... why this?" he said, indicating the room.

Bilia looked around. Still just the extendable ears, no peering faces to dart back again. Pink marbling, clean alabaster, touches of gold leaf, highly polished wood and the silver grey carpet was immaculate too.

"It looks nice," she said. "It's warm, friendly, pleasant, slightly grand, made light with gold... the Blacks _are_ wealthy and it isn't a small house, so there's a nod to that, but I didn't go overboard. The table is good wood, it deserves to have the grain brought out."

"It was black before." Sirius rubbed the surface, considering the wood, or his own reflection.

"Very dark brown, layers of filth. Once upon a time someone bought a nice table, and if it didn't look like this, it would have been similar."

"Not mother."

"No... goodness but her portrait couldn't half make a noise."

"So could she," he said grinning. He glanced at the door, then picked up his cup again.

"I feel sorry for you," said Bilia, offering her own cup for a refill. "Obviously, Severus does not and I'm not going to ask him to, but he won't tease you for simply doing as you've been told, any more than I like you to tease him. Let's actually play the game and have some fun, or we'll sink ourselves into gloom." She smiled at him, not a good look for her, but soon they were playing together and laughing, and Molly Weasley came up from the kitchen.

"What are you kids up to—' she began loudly, then came thumping up the stairs, to find Sirius and Bilia at the table while footsteps thundered away as children dived into one of the upstairs bedrooms.

"Mrs Weasley," Bilia said with a smile. "I'm afraid we're in the middle of a game."

"What are you doing here?" said Molly, suspiciously.

Bilia was shocked, but covered it after that first open surprise. "Are you perhaps forgetting whose house this is, Mrs Weasley?" she asked pleasantly.

"She's playing a game with me," said Sirius, reverting to a somewhat habitual sulk. Presumably a recent habit. "There's no law against it."

"Several actually, you're an escaped criminal and we're aiding and abetting you," Bilia pointed out with a wide smile. "All of us who know that Mr Black is here are criminals by association, you realise." It amused her very much, and she showed it, even as she moved a piece.

"Well, really!" 

Sirius smiled. "She's got a point there, actually," he said.

Mrs Weasley stood with her arms folded, a bastion of all that was respectable in her crochetted robes and flowery apron. "I need the table to serve dinner on," she said. "Assuming I'm still welcome." Her chin was up.

"I can play another time," Bilia said pleasantly. "I didn't come to cause an argument with the cook, Sirius. It was a lovely afternoon, so thank you." She waved a wand and soon had a packed basket and a put-away board game. She picked up the basket and nodded at the closed game box. "Keep that for now, you have more need for it than I do,"

Sirius grinned, alight and alive again. "I will, thanks. I'll see you out." He led her firmly downstairs and out the door, then held it too while he leaned against it and cackled under his breath. "I didn't come here to cause an argument with the cook..."

"Well, she's hardly treating you like a friend, is she?" said Bilia, one hand to his shoulder. "I will *try* to get along with her, Sirius, for your sake," she said earnestly.

"What's your name? If you're calling me Sirius, I can't keep calling you Mrs Snape."

"For several reasons, it's for the best if you do. I loathe my first name. I'm very, very fond of being Mrs Snape, even if you and my husband are not friends. I'd better go, before you have to decide what to do if she snatches the front door open and asks what you think you're doing." She cracked away, very pleased with that afternoon's work.

The next morning, after watching the house for a while, she was there with lilies, actually a window-box full of bright yellow lilies and strawberry plants still in fruit and flower. 

"Mrs Snape," said Sirius, and led her up to the dining room.

"Make a cloth to sit this on?"

"One moment.. there. Funny how it comes back to you." He admired the snow-white cloth he'd brought into being.

Bilia straightened it with a gesture and set the window box atop it. "Thanks. What do you think?"

"Gryffindor colours," Sirius said, his tone appreciative. He took a fruit and bit into it. "Not bad," he told her. "That must have taken a while. Is— is your husband back home?"

"No, he'll turn up when he can, and then I can go shopping. I forgot to get a list, I have eclairs and coffee but not from where...."

Once she was done, she smiled. 'So, the window-box will need daylight, but it fastens to the _inside_ , so you don't need to stick your head out. I can do pots for the roof, too. I'll let you guess what Severus lets me grow."

"Potions ingredients," Sirius said, after a slight pause to eye her hand.

Bilia beamed in delight. "Yes, and thank you for not saying dark, dangerous plants or poisons. The yard's tiny, so flowers have to be useful as well as beautiful. Make a list of nice, cheerful plants and I'll make it a summer project, keeping up morale at Headquarters."

"Come to lunch," said Sirius. "Molly's cooking."

"Doesn't Kreacher mind?" said Bilia, displaying puzzlement. "He seemed very happy to be serving."

"She insists actually." Clearly a subject Sirius was not keen to explore.

"Well, it can't be because she's marrying you off to her daughter," Bilia said with a smile. 

"Oh good Lord.... no." Then he looked at the wall and back. "No, that's not a worry. That game went down well, you can pick up some others."

"How about this year's top gramophone records and the latest best-sellers?"

"Yes, all right. What about muggle records?" He was looking for a reaction, clearly.

Bilia considered his request. "Difficult. I mean, I'll look around but they've moved on to tapes and magic mucks them up, and CDs, and those won't play."

"Try me," said Sirius, still testing her. "Get one for me."

Bilia wasn't about to be drawn. "I'll price them up first, there's the exchange rate to think about... muggle clothes too, second hand, I'm not ripping you off and worn clothes are more authentic."

Sirius eyed her, waivering between the genial host he had been and open suspicion. "Are you his spy in the muggle world?"

"No, but they're everywhere about. One pays attention. If I was his spy, I'd have the clothes already, wouldn't I?" Bilia pointed out, being entirely reasonable, open and friendly.

"But you could be."

"Well, so could you if you were ever allowed outside. Anyway, I hardly doubt the muggles are up to anything we need to worry about."

"Not muggles,' he said, reaching out and brushing his hand over a lily. 'Muggleborns." He had dark yellow pollen stuck to his hand, brushed it off, then ended up vanishing it. "Real flowers." Another surprise.

"They smell better. Charms will keep them fresh, Kreacher will keep them watered. Think about flowers for each month and season, or foliage, just to keep you in touch with the year outside."

He nodded, and coughed. "Kreacher, set up tea for two," he said. "Mrs Snape's staying for lunch, we'll eat in here."

Kreacher was immaculate, servile, old. "Very good, Master. May Kreacher be cooking?" He eyed Sirius somewhat warily, but was still clearly far healthier than before.

"That's probably better than having Mrs Weasley cook for someone she does not quite like," Bilia suggested. "I think we ought to try to be kind, when we can, don't you?"

"Yes, all right," Sirius agreed, giving a nod to Kreacher then otherwise ignoring him. "I can't believe you married... Snape, of all people." Kreacher popped away.

"No. I can see that," Bilia said, amused. "I've seen his dungeon bat act, rather intimidating. And, as you've pointed out, he _is_ a Death Eater."

"I suppose you knit Voldemort fluffy socks and make him keep his feet off the table..."  
Bilia laughed, sitting down on one of the dining chairs to have it out. "Good lord... that image," she said. "Thank you, Sirius, I can live on that for days. The occasion won't arise. I _will_ be more comfortable if I'm not being got at when I'm a guest at your table, by the way. I mean, if Kreacher's cooking, she can't be and it's not quite nice if we're having intimate meals together."

"What about yesterday?"

"That was tea and scones, not lunch. Mainly, it was about the raspberry jam and the fresh raspberries, but I decided to just make the whole picnic up as usual. I didn't realise you were going to have a houseful."

"They're here all summer."

"Very well. I shall be good-mannered and look to you for protection from rough tongues."

He grinned. "I didn't get the impression you need protecting from anyone, Mrs Snape."

"I have feelings, like any other human being, and it's awkward, isn't it, if guests argue at the dinner table?"

"I'll go and have a word with Molly... wish me luck."

"Here in your own home? I would hope that Mr Sirius Black wouldn't need it. Do take the window box first, it's easily broken, and I'll go and get a board game for the afternoon and return at... one?"

"One, yes. I'll let you in."

One again, people scurried away, or vanished with a loud crack just before Sirius and Bilia exited the room. Both affected not to notice it, and parted, it seemed, on very good terms with one another.

At one that afternoon, Bilia was dressed up in the sunniest outfit that didn't make her look like a disregarded inferus, and had with her her usual basket. Sirius opened the door at one that afternoon. He looked grim. "I'm afraid I have to cancel," he said. "An emergency meeting."

"Very well... Here then, the board game... I assume you're not forbidden from sending a patronus?"

"Not quite..."

"Then give a day, and failing that, I'll see you the next time Severus attends a meeting. I am so very sorry, Sirius," she said, and left before he could reply.

* * *

Severus was very interested in the news. "Molly's doing. She doesn't want the children falling under your influence." He put aside that day's newspaper and got up to kiss her.

"Of which Sirius is one... he's ripe for teenage rebellion."

"He's thirty-five years old," Severus said with contempt.

"I know, but he's in his childhood home listening to his Headmaster, with a motherly woman bossing him around and he can either be mothered by her or look to schoolchildren for company. How has your own work been going?"

"I combined a gathering trip with a looking-round for Karkaroff. The sooner he is gone, the better."

"You dislike him?"

"He's a coward."

Bilia nodded and put her cloak away in the under-stairs cupboard, bringing her bag into the sitting room and emptying it out onto the dark, plain coffee table. "Coward and traitor," she said as she moved around, with Severus following. "Let me tell you how the last two days went and then you can send a patronus with a report, perhaps? Given that they're meeting now to decide whether my having lunch is spreading a dark influence, it's a good time. Team Black is best with purple counters rather than orange, no matter _how_ much you are looking forward to his fall."

"If he behaves as he has been doing, then he will merely be someone I very much dislike. Get changed into something suitable for a meeting while you talk."

He was all autocrat, and she admired him and dropped a curtsey, before going up and letting him undress her and choose her clothes. The underwear was a promise of seduction later, and he put wine ready for an evening while she chattered about all she'd seen and heard, and they discussed strategies.  
Finally, with soup, steaks and salad ready for a late meal, he sent the patronus and they went away to this 'emergency meeting' wearing an outer layer of meeting-clothes that would end up stinking of Dung's strong tobacco. At least they could siphon off scented oil and replace it with fresh.

"If we can't play one set of games, we'll just have to play another," Bilia smiled to Severus.

He returned her smile and lit the floo. Bilia counted to three, then followed.

* * *

"How nice of you to join us, Severus," Dumbledore said, as if he hadn't given a command. Sirius and Molly were glaring daggers at one another, while Dung sat apparently asleep near a pile of contraband. Moody was looking disgustedly at Severus even as Bilia stepped forth.

"And Mrs Snape," Dumbledore added, calculating several things.

"I think, given the company, it's best if I attend with Severus and save us all the awkwardness of bad company manners, Professor Dumbledore," Bilia said pleasantly. "Forgive me, Sirius, I didn't have time to bring anything or do more than throw on a travelling cloak. Are we welcome at your table?"

"Of course you are," said Sirius. "Well, you are. Snape, you can sit down too... wine?"

"Thank you, that would be pleasant," said Bilia, and looked at her husband.

"Thank you, Mr Black, that would be pleasant," he said, and sat down, while Bilia gave Moody a long look.

Whatever Moody had been about to say, he didn't.

"Actually, while you're here, it will allow me to put something to rest," said Dumbledore. "I was wondering what your intentions were, in visiting Sirius between meetings?"

"I'm already very happily married, thank you, Professor Dumbledore," said Bilia firmly, with a broad smile, causing Sirius to laugh and Molly to glare daggers.

"You're just trying to cosy up to him to cause trouble!" she accused loudly, squaring up to Bilia.

Bilia put down her bag on the table and handed off her bonnet, which Kreacher took in delicate hands, beneath the notice of those present. "My dear Mrs Weasley, we are together in Mr Black's home and not opposite ends of Carkitt Market," Bilia said sweetly. "In my home, we use our inside voices to talk to one another, it's called good manners. Just a hint, Mrs Weasley, just a hint."

"I think perhaps we had better all sit down and get to business," Dumbledore said into the absolute silence that followed. "Severus, your report, if you please."

"The Dark Lord wants Igor Karkaroff, former headmaster of Durmstrang, tracked down sooner rather than later, so, under the guise of going abroad to gather potions ingredients, I have been travelling europe and listening in various unpleasant taverns. I'm afraid I wasn't able to get much actual gathering done—"

Bilia sighed, disappointed.

"—however, I did find rumour of the Dark Lord's resurrection in a few different places."

"I shall hear about those another time. You were hoping for something in particular, Mrs Snape?"

"It helps the household budget if he gathers, rather than buys, Professor Dumbledore. I brew my own household potions, obviously. And then of course the chocolate's better from abroad—"

"Nonsense! There's not a better place than Honeydukes," snapped Molly. "Miles better than foreign muck."

"... to certain tastes," Bilia said with a smile. "Not something to argue over." She sipped her wine. "You're a very generous and lovely host, Mr Black," she said.

"Once again, a very pleasant vintage," Severus agreed.

"What are you playing at?" asked Moody. "And what's this about you coming round here visiting between meetings? Scouting for Voldemort?"

"Hardly, given that I visit only the hall and the dining room between meetings, or the kitchen at meetings, Senior Auror Moody," Bilia said politely. 

"I did ask earlier what your intentions were," Dumbledore reminded her, his tone gently reproving.

Bilia brightened up. "Oh yes, so you did!" she said. "And then Mrs Weasley had a shouting fit, didn't she and we all lost track, I'm so sorry."

"It was not a shouting fit! I'm not having you sneaking in behind my back and talking to my children!"

"There are some concerns that you could be recruiting on someone else's behalf, Mrs Snape," Dumbledore said.

"No, I think Severus sees the children quite enough at school," said Bilia. "There would hardly be anyone else I could be recruiting for. I live quite happily at home with my husband and saw no harm in bringing some small, harmless pleasures to brighten Mr Black's life while he is stuck in one house - a very pleasant house, but still, I can only imagine that the restrictions chafe. Board games, Professor Dumbledore, and a few fresh flowers. Nothing remotely related to the war. I thought Mr Black's kindness as a host should be repaid and sought a way to do so that wouldn't cause a scandal or mistrust."

"Then I see no harm in it, if Sirius does not," said Dumbledore. "As Mrs Snape does keep on reminding us, this is your home."

"Calling us criminals, she hasn't mentioned that, has she?"

"But of course we're criminals!" Bilia said, amused, holding her bag to her. "We're aiding and abetting a criminal escaped from Azkaban, and not just _any_ criminal, but the escaped murderer Sirius Black!"

"You know full well he's innocent!"

"I rather hoped so, if you were allowing your children to stay in the same house." Bilia took out her knitting and set it up. A long cardigan was slowly taking form. "I do wish you could learn to be less loud, Mrs Weasley, it's ever so wearing on the ears and not quite the manners I was brought up to. In your _own_ home, obviously, you can shout the whole day long."

"If you could keep it down, Molly," said Sirius. "Thank you." His voice had an edge to it. 

"And I suppose you're taking this woman's side—" and suddenly Molly Weasley was choking on a silencing spell.

"Severus, did you have something urgent to report?" said Bilia, her voice commanding. Her knitting was nowhere in sight, her bag in her hand.

"No."

"Then I'd like to leave please."

"At once, my love. Professor Dumbledore, I will see you another time. My wife has need of me and my report is done. Mr Black." Severus did not need to raise his voice at all; every Order member was frozen in shock, other than Dumbledore, who merely inclined his head as though nothing untoward had occurred.

"Mr Snape."

Bilia smiled, her wand busy as she talked. "My apologies for the spell, and my thanks for the excellent wine. My bonnet... there's a good house-elf. Good afternoon."

* * *

Severus took Bilia at once upstairs and undressed her and gave her little chance to say anything, but a long while later, they were both civilised and clean. 

"Did meeting that excite you?" Bilia asked, as they sat down to eat, dressed in evening clothes.

"No. I have been holding onto that thought as a solace for having to go at all."

"I'm not complaining," she said with a smile. "You're the most wonderfully attentive lover. Well, now I have an open motive to murder, so we can't be arranging little accidents. My immortal soul is probably better for it."

"She will now be claiming that you are a dark witch who attacked her."

Bilia smiled. "Once we've eaten, let's take out the game board," she said. "I think we have a single purple counter on Black."

"I would say so, and I'm going to count one on Red as well."

They were quiet after that, busy eating, the steaks cooked on a stone at the table and the smoke cleared with an air-freshening charm when they were done.

* * *

Severus was off the next morning, searching again for Karkaroff, and Bilia busy shopping. She turned up that afternoon by invitation.

"Your husband off again, is he?' Sirius asked, letting her in. He was decently dressed and shaved, and not drunk, although he had been red faced and drinking deep as they left and looked fragile now. His breath was a little gluey.

"Naturally, or I would be at home attending him," Bilia said with a smile, showing nothing but pleasure in his company. "Lead the way."

"The dining room. Dinner's not for hours and Kreacher's cooking it. I told Molly I refuse to treat her like a servant. Kreacher's happier for it." Sirius let her in to a pleasant room, smelling once again of pot pourri. "I'll have to send you to get more wine."

"You do keep spoiling us with fantastic vintages," said Bilia. "The sad thing is, very soon all I can taste is tobacco. We're losing half the flavour. Shall I pick up table wines for when the air gets fuggy and perhaps an air freshener? Some of your fellow guests are rather ripe."

"If you like," Sirius said, opening the offered bag. He waved to a chair and sat down, opening a cardboard box he'd pulled out, and immediately biting into the cake. "For this, you can do anything," he said, pleased, not minding that cream and chocolate ganache had smeared his beard.

Bilia had her basket with her, pulled out of her pocket. She reached into it to set up a coffee tray. "These are mine unless you buy them off me," she said, setting out each gold-plated item on the tray. "I can add custom designs, and plan to, and a little extra income would be nice. Nothing exorbitant, but I really would like a good pair of new boots, honestly earned."

"Yes, all right," said Sirius, once he'd licked his fingers and wiped off most of the mess. "I never paid you back for the house—"

Bilia cut him off. "A gift, freely offered, to a comrade in arms, Sirius. You had need and it helps the war-effort, doesn't it, if you're not half-mad through living in an enemy house? I wouldn't have believed a house could _be_ an enemy until I cleared out this place."

"It's a completely different building," he told her. "So... as you guessed, last night got a little loud."

"The usual audience isn't sneaking about near the door either."

"They've gone back to the Burrow. Now she wants Harry to stay there and not here, or to have you banned completely from the house."

Bilia stared. "Oh dear," she said. "I suppose I can see her point, I _am_ the wife of a Death Eater, not that he shows signs of it at home, let me assure you."

"You wouldn't let him." He was puzzled by that, trying to read her face.

"I love him, Sirius, I'm not about to lose him to the dark, not when he can be saved. It might have _started_ as convenience, but we're very much in love. People grow and change. Mrs Weasley, of course, only knows him as either her children's very much disliked Potions Master or a Death Eater acting as a spy. Enough of that, anyway. So... I took a chunk of the household savings and made out an itemised receipt, galleons and pounds, and the current exchange rate, and then the list for Paris..."

Her little basket was very much bigger on the inside, with a hidden compartment, and Sirius was soon left with a large pile of items and a hint that other adults in the Order should be invited round to listen to music, share meals and discuss things not related to the war.

"I'm not inviting Snape," Sirius said, and went red. "Sorry, but..."

Bilia was entirely sympathetic. "No, of course not and he wouldn't expect it. I'll be very glad to come."

"He won't mind?"

"He doesn't like you, Sirius, and you don't like him, and it's bad enough as it is, isn't it, that you're cooped up and not allowed out, without having an enemy to dinner. He approves of my smoothing things over and, well, he knows when to not argue. I wasn't going to leave you all cooped up alone, it isn't right."

"So you'll come?"

"I think days of joy and cheer will be thin on the ground. I'll come but I'll be home before midnight."

"Like Cinderella."

"I have a lovely home to go to where I'm wanted and loved, Sirius, my own little family of two. So, no."

He grinned. "Fair enough. Molly's going to have to get used to you being around. Dumbledore isn't complaining. I told him you've done more to keep me sane than anyone else has."

"Let's hope a nice dinner and a musical evening helps. No dancing, sorry, not with my husband not there."

"No, of course not. It can get lively once you've gone. No offence."

"None taken, I'm not everyone's cup of tea. Have a lovely time sorting out a music list, won't you?" she said pleasantly.

"I'll certainly try."

"And here's the box of eclairs for when I'm gone... I'll pack the coffee set away and follow instructions later, when you've had time to think."

"Lions." Sirius was very firm on that point, turning one of the gold-plated coffee-holders round with a finger, so that the glass insert glinted in daylight. "Golden goblets, and I want lions on them."

"Like when you were at school?"

"Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor."

"I suppose so. I could put in Canis Major and Leo the constellations? That makes it personal and not look as though you've stolen it from McGonagall's office."

He laughed and shook his head. "Just lions," he said, leaning his chair back.

"Lions it is. I'll come another time with sketches."

"I'll see you out," he said, pushing himself to his feet. A fleck of cream was still there, but he was definitely alert, moving aheard of Bilia's steady footfall, and, despite wincing a little at sudden daylight, he flourished her out into a humid warmth flavoured with last week's leftovers and cheap weed.

Bilia made sure she was properly set, and vanished from the step, rather than set foot into the rest of Grimmauld Place again.

* * *

Severus was in the severe-looking and comfortable sitting room, reading a handsome volume, his posture very correct. "Well?" he asked, putting a bookmark in the book and putting it down on the small square table beside him.

"He's still scared of me enough to not prank me, and last night's row had him hitting the bottle," she said, sitting down. 'Do bring me a drink, Severus, I'm exhausted."  
He brought her one and exchanged a kiss, sitting back down, his face blank, unreadable, his eyes only on her.

"He's throwing a party, my idea, I'll be home around midnight, the walking cunt is *not* invited. Tonks, Sturgis, Vance and Jones. He wanted to know if you would dislike my going and your not being invited."

"Tell him there are parties I go to, to which you are not welcome and I do not wish you to go," he said, dismissing the problem.

"I'll pass that on exactly. So, Molly's keeping him at school and I'm the Christmas holidays."

"Piggy will be attacked soon." No telling what he thought of that.

"Dung has to be co-ordinating it with Umbridge if he is, and we don't _know_ he'll survive."

"The Headmaster seems absolutely sure."

"You won't cry if he doesn't."

"We'll learn for the next time.... we could go early." His studied casual tone wasn't going to fool anyone, least of all his wife. One hand was curling over a wand he wasn't actually holding just now, although it would be within very easy reach.

Bilia considered matters. "Let's join our hearts, so death for one is death for the other," she said. "Something we can undo at need."

"You think we could lose each other?"

"Taking our death into our own hands? I don't know. It's... simpler to just die and not be a widow."

"Let death us not part."

"I can work with that."


	6. Reducing the Number of Enemies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilia is a firm believer in winning through conversations and good works, and for that, she needs to make friends and lull suspicions, even as actions taken begin to have an affect on the current timeline.

In the dim, cavelike kitchen, Bilia stared at the table, one of a shocked set of people with near-identical expressions.

"Let me get this right, Severus," she said carefully. "What you're saying is, Dolores Umbridge sends Dementors to go and kill the Boy-Who-Lived, kills Mundungus Fletcher who is apparently her spy, and this has _nothing_ to do with any Death Eater?"

"I promise you, my love, there is no rumour, hint or sign," Severus said, from his usual place at the table, ignoring the small goblet of wine in front of him.

"Well, that's that," said Moody, sitting back in his chair. "Snape might lie to us, but he won't lie to his wife." Beside him was an empty goblet, which Sturgis took up, quietly taking the bottle Sirius passed to him out of Mrs Weasley's sight. 

"He has leeway for romantic surprises and similar," said Bilia. "This would not count."

"I am not having my beloved wife used in general as a sort of sneakoscope," said Severus, his tone very definite. "This once, yes, given the gravity of the situation and the... implausibility of the news."

"It's very clear what the plot was," said Arthur, gathering Bilia's full attention. "Either she kills him or he has to defend himself and be expelled."

"I'll put together a defence of course," said Bilia. "Sirius will have to coach him. Sirius, full formal robes, establishment, I _know_ you hate it but it's probably ten votes, even twenty if he manages to be well-spoken. I've heard he can be polite when he wishes to be."

"He has impeccable manners," Mrs Weasley said, her arms folded, her cheeks red. "It's not his fault if _some_ people can't let the past go."

Arthur put down his goblet, his thin face worried as he looked between Bilia and his own wife, while Tonks had her hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkled at the corners with glee. Dumbledore was quietly discussing something with Shacklebolt in low murmurs.

"This is, once again, excellent wine, Mr Black," said Severus, catching everyone's attention. "Mrs Weasley, I play a part at Hogwarts because my life is forfeit if I do not. I could be far, far worse, believe me. Mr Potter has only to meet me halfway, but he lets his temper get the better of him. If I start being _nice_ , Death Eaters will begin asking questions."

Bilia nodded along and beamed when he was done with that little speech. "I'll put together a rough script with reasoning then, since of all of us I have the most free time," she said to her good friend Sirius. "You'll have your hands full as Harry's foster-father, obviously and the rest of us have jobs beyond the keeping of a house. I mean, that only makes sense, doesn't it?"

"You have a firm understanding of wizarding law, Mrs Snape"' said Dumbledore. Shacklebolt went back to his seat.

"More or less every line and loophole, yes, Professor Dumbledore. I'm well aware that my husband might end up thrown into Azkaban with no one to defend him, it could happen to any of us."

"I would still like to overlook the defence you offer, before anything is taught to Harry."

"I'll hand it to Sirius and then he can make sure you get it," said Bilia. "That seems the fastest way, rather than trying to co-ordinate with you, Professor Dumbledore. You can pick it up when it's convenient."

His nod was grave. "That will have to do."

"Poor Harry, upstairs, recently attacked and all alone while we're here with wine," Bilia sighed, watching Mrs Weasley accept a refill. "I mean, I see the necessity, I do, but—"

"He's not alone, he's with his friends," Mrs Weasley snapped, giving Bilia a dirty look.

"That's not the same as a parent, is it? Or guardian, in your case, Sirius. Your poor little lamb. Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I just saw the time and had a twinge of conscience, I'll be quiet."

"I think, if there is no more news, we can adjourn it there," said Dumbledore. "Severus, join me in my office. Mrs Snape, I am afraid this talk is for Severus alone."

"That's understood, Professor Dumbledore and always has been," Bilia smiled. "Sirius, hot chocolates for both of you and a nice chat on your own, and probably a shot of rum—"

"Don't you dare give that boy rum!"

"...would probably be advisable," Bilia said.

"Molly, don't shout," said Sirius. "It's not good manners. Bilia, that's an excellent suggestion."

Bilia gave a pleased smile, ignoring mutters from the others. "I'll pop round as soon as I have something put together then - I don't suppose I could borrow your library, thinking about it?"

"Yes, of course."

"What time in the morning?"

"Say, ten?"

"I'll leave no stone unturned to save Harry. If I can't be there in person, I can still be behind him. You'd better go and be actually with him." With satisfaction, she watching him get up, then left herself.

* * *

The dining room at Spinner's End was dusty in the corners, but the bottle green shade was immaculate, and so was the table it shone onto. The dinner plates had been cleared and were frothing up in the kitchen, the only noise in the room other than the clock. Severus Snape was a hunched, dark figure, looking ready to rub his hands over his schemes. Bilia a doughy counterpoint wearing lilac, and their pieces somewhat reflected that. Bilia reached out and tapped the board with their wand.

"Purple counter upon green and take one orange counter away."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he said, looking over the board. "I wasn't aware that the cunt had let you see the boy."

"Nor yet has she, but piggy isn't actually her son, and he's very well aware that I put the defence together. I also handed a written apology for not addressing him directly, handed on to Sirius, who now knows all _his_ rights as a guardian and has a defence in case, by some miracle, he should see trial. Sirius has seen, read and understood the defence offered, and I wasn't forbidden from putting together a child's guide to a hearing *and* a full trial before the Wizengamot and who could make that happen and who could stop it."

"The Chief Warlock, I suppose?"

"Piggy's now aware of what a Chief Warlock is and does. Blood-Red has access to the schedules and can cancel a trial on a point of law and has a full list ready just in case, and Piggy and Team Black know he does. Nice reply, by the way. I promise you, my love, there is no rumour, hint or sign."

"I'm rather proud of that one," Severus said with a smile that very nearly wasn't entirely hideous. "The question now is, is a known murderer necessary to Blood-Red's plans?" He looked over the board, and placed a pink counter in a pale brown shabby-looking square. Tonks was determined in her pursuit of the wolf. 

"I missed something."

"Merely a significant exchange of glances behind your back when the wooden pawn decided in your favour."

"He has a deciding vote but not influence in a way that would earn a counter," Bilia decided. "Nor do we have a counter the other way. Let's see the score then."

"Team Blood-Red are first, Orange second, Deep Purple third."

"Team Black trailing after Green... no one trusts Team Black an inch. He's a house-keeper and prisoner." Bilia mused on the pieces, chin resting on her corpse-white hand.

"As long as he remains an overgrown child, he will stay that way and deserve to," Severus said in a tone of withering contempt.

"I know, but as long as he's alive, the house isn't deep orange. Orange got their claws into Green over and over and ours bounced off." She glanced round as the plates put themselves away, and concentrated on the board again.

"If Green is only going to be slaughtered later on, does it matter?"

"Team Orange managing that house? Of course it matters, Severus, I'm _comfortable_ there. They'll turn it into a splinter-covered hovel and Piggy will think it's the height of good housekeeping because he's a teenage boy. I'm training Team Black slowly, but the cunt's untrainable and so are her loutish sons."

"I wasn't aware you cared so much about houses," he said, his tone slightly cold.

Bilia fixed her bruise-blue eyes on her husband. "I do when I have to keep going to keep tabs on things. _This_ house is home, but Hogwarts is cold, draughty and miserable more months than it is not, and while you might go outside, I do not, and I don't visit anywhere else. I'm not lonely, and I have the entire world to apparate around, but still, it would be another place to be miserable, instead of somewhere nice..." she sighed. "I know, you don't get to go, but that's the plan, isn't it? To survive and be welcomed widely, whichever side wins."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Green and Black are malleable and wealthy, Orange and Blood-Red both disgust me, and as for the other side of the board, we've seen what a world run by them looks like. No fun for anyone, ever, just endless duty."

"You want me on the same side as the Piggy." Severus spoke quietly, his face a careful blank, his right hand curling around his wand, not actually looking at Bilia other than one single glance from behind the greasy curtains of his hair.

Bilia ignored these signs of incipient breakdown. "Rather than Blood-red? Yes. If the thing keeping the monster alive is soul-pieces, and there's a deep connection stemming from that scar, it's most likely a soul piece and I can remove it by bringing them both close together, rather than having the Dark Lord slaughter the poor boy. I don't know what he'll grow up into, but.... his godfather is a dog and dogs can be trained with kindness and food."

Severus sneered. "I doubt that Piggy will respond to either."

Bilia's eyes crinkled with amusement. "What else would Team Orange have had to offer? Training? Good wise counsel? Fashion tips?"

"You feel you can train him?"

"I'm not discounting it, Severus, until I've tried and failed. I know the _next_ time, a good cheery hello at our first encounter would be better than being shabby and pathetic."

"Let us hope that there's a loophole for Occlumency training."

"Now that he knows I'm here and an influence? If not, there's always next time. I'll befriend the boy in his first detention if I can."

"Enough of the game," Severus said, and put it away with a few efficient gestures, making the ceramic pieces rattle into their wooden holders and the board flap to a corner that Bilia swept with a gesture before it settled down next to a shelf full of board games. He stretched out and looked round at his wife, no obvious plans on his mind.

"You have a lovely arse, my love, and it's all covered up..." Bilia said, her voice an invitation.

* * *

On a hot and humid afternoon a few weeks later, Bilia was all but pulled into Order Headquarters. "Sirius, really!" she protested, following along and into the room. "I'm married!"

"We did it! We did it!" Sirius said, unheeding, and danced her round in the narrow hallway. "Harry got off scot free! His record's clear, the next time he's had up it's his first offence..." He kissed her cheek.

"That's lovely, but I _refuse_ to be the subject of a duel between yourself and my husband," said Bilia, taking his hands and putting them down. "Really, it *is* lovely, and I'm very glad—" She stopped abruptly, blushed and apologised as a door opened into the hall and the new arrival halted. "I'm very sorry, it's not at all what it looks like. Sirius was just celebrating and forgot the manners due to a _happily married_ witch, Sirius Black," she said, scolding him with a smile.

"Sorry," Sirius said, not looking it at all. He gestured to the boy who had just come out of the sitting room and who was standing looking caught out. "Mrs Snape, I'd like you to meet my godson, Harry Potter."

Bilia gave only a slight smile, but a genuine one. "Very nice to meet you, Mr Potter," she said warmly, offering her hand. "Congratulations on getting off scot free."

"Thanks to you!" Sirius said, still full of enthusiasm and pulling Harry over towards the front door. "I think this calls for a celebration! Kreacher, champagne for all of us!" He pushed Harry at Bilia.

"Hello, Mrs Snape," said Harry and shook hands reluctantly, quickly letting go. He was staring at her, trying to work her out, and, despite Sirius's enthusiasm, clearly he wasn't an immediate fan.

"Yes, I _am_ very ugly, and my husband isn't the nicest, especially to you," Bilia said with a smile, choosing to take no offence at all. "I do love him very much, by the way, he is a _very_ different wizard when he's at home. People can be different depending on who you are. Mrs Weasley was right, you do have lovely manners."

"Thanks," said Harry, smiling uncertainly and eyeing Sirius, who was leaning on the banister. The stairs had a clean deep red carpet held in place with new shining brass stair rods, Bilia noticed.

"And I'm very sorry you were attacked by Dementors," Bilia went on, examining Harry. He was in somewhat worn overlarge and fairly muggleish clothing, and too thin, but he had a decent colour to him.

"It was her idea to give you the rum," said Sirius cheerfully.

"In hot chocolate... not _just_ rum?" said Bilia, faintly horrified. "I mean, he had a long cold journey and would have been hungry..."

"Not when Kreacher was done with him. Hot chocolate, buttered crumpets..." Sirius smiled at Harry, but Harry was exactly where Sirius had shoved him to.

"I do apologise for talking about you and not to you, I forgot myself," Bilia said. 

"It's all right," said Harry, looking awkward.

"Shall I go out and come in and we can start again?" Bilia asked. "Very nice, Kreacher, but if your master doesn't mind, I'd like to be properly inside first and not in my travelling clothes."

Kreacher stood by the impressive coat rack, with a tray holding champagne in an ice bucket and some glasses, waiting for more instructions. His face was very lined, but the scowl was gone.

"Let's go into the sitting room," said Sirius, bouncing back out of the seat and ignoring the house-elf altogether. "You can meet the kids, even Molly Weasley's changed her mind about you now." He gave Harry a quick squeeze to reassure him.

"It's wonderful what real, practical help will do," said Bilia. She gave another smile to the half-grown Chosen One and followed to the sitting room, where Ron, Ginny and Hermione were lounging on a rug. The curtains were open on a fairly grey day, and they were playing a game on a clean and not even all that dark brown and black Persian rug. The room was sparse of furniture, but what was there looked comfortable and had clearly been colour-charmed. A matching set of nesting tables seemed to have had decorations roughly sliced off, leaving pale, smooth patches of bare wood. Bare patches showed where portraits, or perhaps mirrors had hung. It was clean and did not smell musty.

"Kreacher! There you are. Champagne, one glass each," said Sirius, looking down at the house-elf that had just followed with the tray. "We're celebrating."

Kreacher bowed and put the tray down on a side table before approaching Bilia. "Miss Bilia's coat must be put away first," he said, sounding sane.

Bilia handed off her cloak and hat and looked over the board game then back at Sirius, with a hopeful smile, accepting her glass at last with a polite smile and nod to the house-elf, who went on to offer the tray to the children, who got up to take champagne and greet the newcomer.

"Yes, right, manners... Harry you've met, and this is Ron Weasley... this is Mrs Snape."

Ron had been about to shake hands and dropped his hand as though stung. Bilia dropped her hand and turned away, to the next person around the board on the floor.

"And Hermione Granger." 

Hermione, at least, was willing to shake hands. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Snape." 

After more polite introductions, Bilia looked over the game. "Did I interrupt your play, Sirius?" 

"We can deal you in if you like," Sirius said, to a mixed reaction. Ginny and Hermione were both very curious about her. The boys noticeably less enthused.

"I'd be happy to play at a table. I didn't dress for sitting on the floor, I'm afraid."

"Easily enough done. Kreacher, set the game up at a table and enough chairs..."

"I have a basket for you, shall I hand that to Kreacher as well?"

"Kreacher, take care of the basket when you're done."

Kreacher bowed politely. "Yes, Master."

"He looks very well, Sirius," Bilia said warmly. "I know it's a personal remark, but I do like it when house-elves look well-cared for."

"The Malfoys were horrible to Dobby," said Harry, as they trooped over to the dining room, set up for gaming. 

Bilia handed off her unshrunk basket and took her place as player six and accepted her pieces. "Then that was very silly of them," she said. "I'm assuming that Dobby was their elf?"

"He _was_ , yes," Harry said, grinning. "He got free." He sat down close to Ron, who was watching this exchange, trying to work things out. It didn't look as though there was going to be a row, at least. 

Bilia picked up her champagne and finally drank. "Wonderful... which bottle is this? The 88 or the 85?"

"No idea, ask Kreacher," Sirius said carelessly, playing his move as he talked.

"I can't exactly call upon him, and it wouldn't be wise if I could," Bilia said.

"Oh! Yes, all right, Kreacher!"

"The '88, Master," Kreacher said, his lined old face fairly close to impassive. He was stood close enough to the cloth-covered table to see that he could simply walk underneath, if chairs weren't underway.

"It's excellent, the vitner wasn't lying. I think that's the first glass of champagne I've had where I wasn't gatecrashing a wedding. Really large weddings, you can get away with it, you only need a fancy dress and a hat. Obviously that's terrible behaviour and you must never," she added to the children very seriously.

"I knew I liked you," said Sirius, grinning. Harry smiled too.

"So, then, Dobby...." Bilia asked Harry. "What did they do to him? The Malfoys?"

"Well... they were making him iron his hands and things," Harry said.

Bilia showed the appropriate amount of shock, swaying her audience. "Appalling, and nothing to do about it with the way the law currently is," she said sadly.

"I put a sock in this dia-- something of Mr Malfoy's and he threw to Dobby," Harry volunteered.

"Oh, * _very_ clever! Sirius, the next time, just point him at the books and let him make a first case himself, he's got the right sort of mind to tie the other side in knots. Mr Weasley, I do believe it's your turn?"

"Oh, yeah..." The scowl was gone and Ron was rapidly taken up with considering the state of play now the board was moved. 

Bilia set herself up with practiced ease, giving slight smiles and meeting considering looks rather than outright hostility now. Harry had clearly been pleased to be praised, although he had gone red and was looking away, watching Ginny fiddle with her one piece not on the board.

"I want to do something about house-elf law," said Hermione proudly. "I've set up a society."

"Yeah, Spew," said Ron, handing on the dice to his sister.

"It's S.P.E.W. actually. The Society for the Protection of Elven Welfare."

"Did you run it by your Head of House to get an official charter?" asked Bilia. "That gets you a classroom once a week and some free materials, just parchment and ink and chairs and tables."

"No.... I didn't think of that," said Hermione. "Do you think I should?"

"Don't encourage her," Ron muttered.

"I think kindness should always be encouraged," said Bilia warmly, watching Ginny roll the dice. 

"Why marry Snape then?"

Bilia stared, shocked, in silence for a moment, her eyes only on Ron. "I'm so sorry," she said to Sirius at last. "Thank you for the champagne, but I must be going."

"Ron, say sorry to Mrs Snape,' said Sirius. 'It's thanks to her that Harry's free."

"Ron! Say sorry!"

"Miss Granger, I wouldn't," Bilia smiled. "It's generally frowned upon to order your fellow house-guests around. Sirius Black, of course, is our host and sets the rules for the house. Just a hint, to set you up well for the future."

"Sorry," Ron said. "And I don't mind if Hermione bosses me around." He was upset.

"That's lovely to know, I didn't know you were going out together," said Bilia, all warm friendliness as she smiled between the two of them.

Harry and Ginny made cut-off noises and exchanged a look. Hermione choked and coughed out a mouthful of champagne. Bilia cleaned up, sending twinkling droplets into the air and cancelling them from all existence with a wave of the wand. "There, no harm done!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Ron's voice, his expression were full of his deep and urgent need to make sure Bilia understood this. Hermione was already a bright red, while the rest of the table covered laughs or grins.

Bilia's smile stayed on this side of good manners. "Oh! I _do_ apologise to both of you, just generally speaking, when a witch takes charge of a wizard that way, usually she's an older sister or a girlfriend, I didn't mean to imply anything. Perhaps you've babysat Mr Weasley in the past?"

Hermione was already bright red, and the colour deepened even further. 'No, we just go to school together," she said.

"Well, I am putting my foot in it, aren't I? Moving on then, Miss Weasley has taken the opportunity to move unobserved, Sirius?"

"Right, let's see..." Sirius rolled a double and set a piece on the board, handing the dice on to Hermione.

"So... do you go to meetings then?" asked Harry, not watching the board at all as Hermione moved her piece and took another.

"If I did, I would be very much discouraged from talking about it," said Bilia, making sure to keep her voice sweet. "How frustrating to have to give that as an answer, I can only imagine how irritating it is to be constantly shut out. Miss Granger, that's positively evil, well done. Your turn, Mr Potter."

"Harry."

"Very well, but I loathe my first name and rather like being Mrs Snape— Mr Weasley, I was wondering, when precisely do you come of age?"

"March the third.... 1997, why?"

"Because generally, when adult wizards insult my husband, I slap them in the face," said Bilia gently. "I don't hit children, and I don't believe adults ever should, but it is rather a sore point with me, because I love him very dearly as the husband he is to me, regardless of how he feels he has to act in the world outside. I think it's easier if, perhaps, we pretend I am some _other_ Mrs Snape? I'd rather we got along."

"Please, Ron," said Sirius from his place at the head of the table.

"I didn't say anything," Ron lied, getting a shove from Ginny.

"Very well, I must have misheard. Anyway, Harry, I very much do like being called Mrs Snape and hope you won't mind it."

"It's all right... he said doubtfully.

"Wonderful!" and she leaned forward watched the board expectantly.

Harry made a move just to have made a move.

"You're not going to win, you're miles behind," Ginny pointed out.

"Pieces can be lost as well as won... I'm so sorry, Harry but if you play poorly I'm not about to baby you, you left that wide open. And... there. One on the board for me, one off the board for Harry... I'm done."

The board game continued quietly for a while, until the champagne was gone and snacks and butterbeer appeared. 

"And now you've taken my poor dear pawn... a tragic loss... I shall, of course, get you for that, you realise..." Bilia grinned. "You're a vile sneaky player and obviously I hate you very much."

Ginny grinned back. "I'm not going to baby you"' she said.

Bilia laughed. "No, clearly not... but we'll see who laughs last!" She ate a biscuit and turned into a canary, causing Ron and Sirius to hoot with laughter.

Bilia stared and looked at the other biscuits, absently waving away the feathers. "Sirius, that's genius charms work," she said. 

"Not me, blame Fred and George."

"I do, it's wonderful. Not mean-spirited either. Whose turn is it?"

Bilia left to warm goodbyes, even if some were only lukewarm. She wasn't leaving a house of enemies and even Kreacher was being respectful.

Severus was back late to a smell of oxtail and herbs and red wine, and very rapidly cleaned himself off. Bilia joined him at the table, curious about his day, but he only shook his head.

"Well, I've had a day full of conversation," she said, watching his unlovely grimace. "I don't need more," she added to his relief. "You can clean up before bed, love, you'll probably feel better for it." She kissed his temple and left him to it, and was glad, later, that he reached for her and they could lie together while she soothed his neck and shoulders from being hunched up. He relaxed, his breathing slowed, and she turned round and lay for a while in the dark, thinking, in an entirely dark room, with the endless grumble of distant traffic as the only sound outside.


	7. Making Time for Themselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War may be raging, but Bilia's current concerns are with her husband and getting enough out of her free time.

Severus and Bilia made slow and gentle love that ended in the usual sweaty and exhausted stinking heap, on oily sheets and cleaned up with a few short gestures before curling up together.

"One whole day off..." Bilia said thoughtfully.

"Don't jinx it," Severus said, his breath ruffling her hair. He sounded only halfway out of sleep, but there was still a slight edge to his voice and his arm was tense.

"Do either of your masters know?" Bilia asked, worried herself now.

"Both think I am out doing something for the other that I already took care of." He sounded pleased with himself, as well he shuld, Bilia thought.

"Then we're safe enough, but stay away from the floo. No plots or plans, Severus, just... whatever's nice." She moved so she could look into his eyes and read his face.

"Sex is nice." He looked amused, relaxed, in love. Well, he looked like himself, but she was very used to reading between the lines a harsh existence and bad habits had left there.

Bilia relaxed and kissed him, very pleased. "It is, isn't it? Dinner's leftovers..."

"We could go out somewhere." He sat up now, glancing at the bedside clock that showed it to be barely eight in the morning and looked down on his wife with severe lines making his face seem sour. 

Bilia sat up too. "Paris. I know a place... is that plausible?" she asked, reading his face.

A very slight nod. "In disguise." He pulled his grey nightshirt down over his hips, and was a lot more awake now.

"Oh! Then anywhere we like."

"Tell me about this place in Paris," Severus said, concentrating on her in a way that always made her interested, because he was interested in her, as a person. Over time, they'd smoothed out points of real question, and now, for all he looked the complete misanthrope, this was the husband that she knew was up for a spree.

Accordingly, she brightened. "Well, I've never actually eaten there, but the leftovers are very good, I took samples, and it's quiet, nobody's allowed to bother you, and you can watch people from above, or listen... you can be apart from the world, and watch it, unmolested." She was hopeful.

"That does sound actually pleasant." In the current atmosphere outside these small brick walls, this was a surprising rarity to be treasured.

Bilia kissed him behind the ear, very much in love. "We'll have to go early, we'd never get a table in the evening," she murmured.

"Well, damn," he said, and stretched out. He yawned, so Bilia relaxed against him and let him tease her greasy dust-coloured hair. "Do you really want to go?" he asked.

"It's that or lots of really good sex, leftovers and whatever's on the radio, neither choice is exactly a hardship. We might not even get a table. It would be nice to go around shopping with you but I don't know you'd enjoy that at all."

"It depends on where and for what."

"Then I'll let you decide. Our budget for the day is three hundred galleons. All those savings I've made add up, we can have one really good day, my love."

"How much will dinner cost?"

"A hundred or so between us? It depends on the wine, I'm assuming we won't skimp. This is all the fun we haven't been having all year long. Fun money, saved up to splash out with. All our expenses are more than covered."

"Or we can stay here and have three hundred galleons to play with another time," he said, looking into probably some very bad memories. He didn't quite have the look of sneering malice that said he was plotting misery for someone he despised.

"Or we can do that. Cottage pie and tea," Bilia said, hoping to distract him.

Severus pulled himself out of bed, taking up his wand. "Who knows when the next time is we'll have to do this," he said, and looked at her, and saw her. He was resolute. To her, if to no one else in the whole wide world, it was a good look for him.

Bilia beamed as she followed him out from under their dark grey blankets. "I'd have been happy either way," she told him. "I just want to be really clear about that, but, well, I _am_ glad we're going." And, just as she loved a face that no one else did, he loved her and kissed her gently, his hands saying what his face barely could, until they set out together as a team to steal a day from all the miserable demands of just about everyone.

That evening, they danced, he handsome, she very beautiful, in an exclusive little club known only to wizardkind, in a courtyard surrounded by roses. Both heard conversation they noted for later. Neither followed up any lead, or gave any thought to anything but this one perfect day.

* * *

In the morning, Severus went off to go and talk to Lord Voldemort and Bilia went to Order Headquarters. Bilia had her basket openly with her, and was wearing a beribboned coat of deep blue serge that somewhat warmed her eyes from slate to nearly blue.

"Mrs Snape! Come in," Sirius said happily. "Snape off again is he?" He didn't even sound bitter about the fact of her husband's existence, which made her wonder what could have been happening.

She showed only pleasure in the sight of him. If he had merely discovered manners, it ought to be encouraged. "You are being kind, Sirius, thank you, and yes, he's probably off doing something dreadful. I refuse to sit around and wait for hours when he'll be coming straight here afterwards anyway."

"Come and play a game." That explained everything. He was bored and needed a sympathetic adult to talk to.

"I'd love to, I brought a new one in fact. You have to get flies out of a spider's web without the spider noticing, silly and simple."

"That sounds good, we'll try it. Should I be calling a meeting?"

"I've no idea, I don't do all that sort of thing. I just turn up, only I'll be upstairs instead of at Spinner's End. I have a thousand jars of jam to make, but not today."

"Earning a little extra?"

"Always, Sirius, Severus's salary is dreadful. Feel free to commission custom made expensive items..."

"I'll see." 

That short answer wasn't hopeful, but Bilia kept talking as he actually led her inside. "Four sickles the pot, the jam, blackberry, blackberry and apple.... give me some port and it'll be blackberry and port and you can get the port back afterwards."

"You could make blackberry wine." Clearly he hoped she would. Or was actually being nice, it was always possible.

"Severus does that, only we thought if I brought some you'd assume he'd poisoned it."

"Not from you, no, Mrs Snape."

Bilia gave a nod to cover any hint of triumph. "I'll grab a bottle then, assuming he's willing, and not tell him which one. May I borrow a bottle of port?"

"You can have it," said Sirius. "Kreacher, take Mrs Snape's cloak and hat and when she goes let her take a bottle of port with her."

"It's for jam, not for drinking, so potable but not to show off with."

Kreacher bowed and Bilia happily handed down her things. "He's such a thoughtful and kind elf," she told Sirius. "I get them back cleaned and with all the creases taken out, did you know?"

"He likes you." They moved towards the back of the house. "I told Harry, you can tell someone by how they treat people weaker than them."

"Oh dear, and Severus is rather dreadful to the students. I've never observed him interacting with a house-elf, come to think of it. We do all the work at school ourselves. Good afternoon, Harry, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley."

The sitting room was entirely as it had been, clean, somewhat drab compared to the dining room because the wallpaper was good enough, sparse of furniture and with only a few bright spots, but the wood was polished, the paint clean and new, and the various scattered objects made it looked lived in, as though the forced residents managed to have fun. No rubbish or discarded socks, just games and books and something on parchment that someone was working on and had put aside. Life was mostly on the floor.

The children got to their feet and came over, and though Bilia couldn't see it, Sirius was gesturing for good manners, she knew from the polite variations on "Good afternoon, Mrs Snape." Although Ginny and Ron both looked interested and no one was scowling to see her. 

"She's brought a new game," Sirius said, to cheer Harry out of some sort of doldrum.

"Simple but fun, and if I have to run off to a meeting then it can just be dropped. You have to get flies off a spider's web without the spider noticing." 

"I don't like spiders," Ron said, making a face.

"Oh! I had no idea.... well, then, no, let's not play something one of us finds horrid. Any game you like, then, Sirius, you know me."

"Exploding Snakes and Ladders?"

"Absolutely, bring it on!"

* * *

Mrs Weasley turned up to the Order meeting with cakes and biscuits and Bilia had a quick word with Severus and went away, returning with bottles of home-made wine, and thus followed a dull meeting, with nothing achieved beyond several feet of knitting, until Dumbledore turned to Bilia with a gentle smile. 

"Mrs Snape, I remember your saying you are at something of a loose end," he said.   
'I did say that, didn't I?' said Bilia. "In June. Of course, the blackberries have just ripened, that's our jam allowance for the year and whatever I can sell, this is harvestime and busy until November. Generally this is when I fill our pantry for the next summer, you see."

"So you won't be available to go and look into something for me?"

"It will have to fit around jam-making and foraging, but in general I'm willing to do what I can. What did you have in mind, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I thought perhaps you might like to go and pick up on rumours abroad."

"That's... rather expensive, if I'm to not be caught," Bilia said carefully.

"I was under the impression you went abroad constantly," said Dumbledore with a smile.

"I do, of course I do, since Sirius cannot, but then he pays expenses, or I couldn't go at all. Disguises, polyjuice and so on and even language courses. All accounted for, Mrs Weasley, I haven't been profiteering from keeping up morale."

"No one thinks you would," said Dumbledore, entirely disregarding sneers and snorts of disbelief. "Very well then, we shall arrange expenses from the war chest... how often do you think you can be away?"

"Well, my first duty is always to Severus, you understand, those are the vows I took, so it depends on when he has need of me, which isn't always predictable - nothing onerous, I do _have_ spare time, I'm not pretending I don't."

"I can spare my beloved wife as often as you demand, Albus," said Severus. "I am not some domestic tyrant."

"As if he ever loved anyone," someone muttered, only just audible from the other end of the table.

"Then you won't mind going away for a few days," Dumbledore said, as if this would be the greatest treat for all concerned.

Mrs Weasley and Mrs Figg both showed near-identical expressions of satisfaction, Bilia noted. Sirius and most of the rest were just enjoying the show, while Moody was, as ever, darkly suspicious.

"Oh my goodness, I couldn't!" said Bilia, appalled. "I haven't slept outside the marriage bed since.... I mean if he was _with_ me, of course... it's not appropriate, Professor Dumbledore, it just isn't, ask Mrs Weasley-- you wouldn't, would you?" she asked Mrs Weasley as though they were in fact friends.

"I.... well... no,' Mrs Weasley admitted. "Arthur and I haven't spent a night apart since we were wed." She gave her thin-faced husband a fond look, and he gazed at her with open affection.

"Severus has patrols sometimes, I have to make allowances," Bilia smiled. She turned back to the head of the table. "It's marriage, it makes a difference," she told Professor Dumbledore again. Explaining.

"Then I shall not impinge upon your good will," said Dumbledore. 

"Send us both," said Severus, surprising a set of people. "I'm supposedly searching for Karkaroff anyway so we can kill him, and two sets of eyes are better than one." His offer of help created immediate suspicion all round the table.

"Not that much more expensive either," said Bilia, being helpful despite the clear consensus.

"I'm afraid that would be quite impossible," said Dumbledore in a kindly tone. Sugar to make the medicine go down. "Everyone else is spoken for."

"Jam it is then," said Bilia cheerfully, and went back to her knitting.

* * *

"You realise he's just working to keep you and Team Black apart," said Severus when they were back and looking over the board in their neat, clean and somewhat severe dining room.

"Obviously, yes, since there's no reason for you to not come with me and live a little. He'll need some reason why you're busy." Bilia looked over the little pieces and touched them in turn.

"Someone has to go and do the job Mundungus Fletcher was doing."

"Thieving and reporting to Dolores Umbridge?" Bilia asked, touching the paler pink wider piece.

"Supposedly he was useful for picking up rumours." His tone echoed her own lack of belief.

"And yet, he's dead and nothing much has changed - not even the appointment of Umbridge. At least I'm disqualified from teaching in that post. Good _lord_ but the hours are ridiculous."

"And yet she taught each class and still was able to observe two others," Severus pointed out, looking at the blood red square. "Umbridge remains untouchable. A lesson learned."

"What shall we do with her?" she asked.

"Have some evidence found and then she can flee the country."

"Excellent, yes. It'll have to be on Wedneday, I've put off jam-making long enough. I have port."

"Good, I'll help. I'm hardly doing anything else and it's a nice day out."

They set out to pit themselves and their magic against brambles and the occasional redcap, and there was no sign of the war where they were, at all.


	8. This Little Piggy was a Dunderhead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making allies out of enemies is a slow process.

Harry crept into the Potions class room like a thief, and stared at Bilia as though she held the answer to some sudden question for which he would get a great many House points.

"You don't have a detention this evening,' Bilia said, all mild curiosity.

"It _was_ you! You look... different."

"Yes, I _am_ rather ugly, we've been into that," she said with a smile.

"Not that. I don't think you're ugly. You were here before." He was poised between curiosity and accusation, his fist around his wand, but not obviously planning to use it.

Bilia was all calm, smiling reason, having had more than enough practice at that. "Yes, doing preparation work. Of which there's rather a lot...do you want something very quick, or will it take time? If it will take time, I'll teach you."

"I just wanted to see who you were."

"Mrs Snape," she said with a smile, noting that he wore adequate boots these days and not shabby trainers. " _You_ are that dunderheaded nincompoop who would rather spend time chattering to... never mind, than open a potion book and actually learn, and then has the effrontery to blame me, _me_ , for his dismal brewing results, or so I understood you to be before your last detention. Well, the last I saw you on." It amused her, but drove Harry to a scowl.

"Well, he never tells us how to do anything." How she wished he wouldn't sulk like that.

"I know his lesson plans backwards and sideways, Harry, he tells you more than you ever would need, and most things at least three times in a year. What he doesn't do is treat you nicely."

"No," Harry said, and his shoulders slumped, so he looked almost woebegone. "It won't make any difference if I do try."

"Not in getting him to like you, but it's not a 'Make the Professor Like Me' lesson, is it? If you wanted to learn about Potions, you would be able to. If you don't leave now then you'll have to wash your hands and come and help."

Harry hesitated.

Bilia went and washed her hands, and when she looked up, he was gone.

* * *

Harry was back the next evening, while she was busy setting up bushels of nettles to be dried.

"You said you'd teach me," he said, expecting some sort of verbal fight over the matter, apparently, by the belligerence in his tone.

"Once upon a time you were a very polite person and I was glad to talk to you," she said, stepping back from the waving fronds and charming her hair back. She shoved the wand back into a pocket. "Apparently, that person disappears when your current body gets onto the Hogwarts Express, and a rather sullen person turns up at school looking ready to start an argument if I say no. I didn't change, Harry, I'm still Mrs Snape. A very busy Mrs Snape."

"Sorry.... can you teach me?" He was still being barely civil, but she could let that go.

"This evening, I can teach you how to handle nettles, which, by the way, are edible and delicious, just not raw, and not at this time of year. These ones are only fit to be dried or used to make cloth."

"You can make cloth from nettles?"

"Indeed you can. Once again, either leave or give me a hand."

"Then you'll teach me?"

"I rather thought I just had... it'll be lessons about nettles, but they do turn up a lot, don't they?"

"I hadn't noticed."

"I'm beginning to see why you might drive my husband up the wall," Bilia said, openly amused. "Poor man, he adores Potions, but teaching it to disinterested students... do you want to learn, Harry, or do you want to have learned with no effort on your part?"

Harry couldn't work that one out. "You can do that?"

"Not even with magic, no. Books, notes, practice. Wash your hands please, then hold them out, and we'll cover nettles and, if there's time, do tomorrow's work and I'll be free to tutor you. Does that sound good?"

"Not tomorrow, I've got practice."

"I'll be a few hours ahead for a while then start afresh on Monday. So after Monday, we'd be no better off than we are now," she explained with patience honed on various Order members.

"The day after tomorrow?"

"With a lot of hard work tonight, now, but it means doing as you're told and when or instead of _saving_ time, you'll cause me to need even more."

He aquiesced and was, Bilia thought, rather good about gutting flobberworms neatly, once he'd properly sharpened a knife. No gloves because that let them both feel grit or hideous lumps or wriggling parasites. 

"As you already know, because you dropped all the bad ones in the bucket."

"So it's not just being foul."

"If you do two barrels and only a third are good, it still saves money overall. Flobberworms are cheap, he can spend that time doing marking and then spend time originally allotted to marking on brewing. And you're still learning, in a practical way. Eventually you learn the fast way to do it just to be done."

"What about scrubbing cauldrons?" Harry asked, exploring the novel and unlikely idea of not entirely hating Professor Snape.

"If you're brewing in your own adult home, assuming you can't just hand it off to servants, will your cauldrons scrub themselves?"

"No... But I can scrub stuff at home."

"And there's house-elves around and so on, I know. You get to see good and terrible cauldrons and to know which ones will cling to their contents and make you groan to see them, and which will be easy."

"Who scrubs them if there's no detentions?"

"Severus and I do it together, the ones that can't be vanished clean. Now, take a look at this flobberworm, it has eggs in, and see if you can pick out others like that before they're opened..."

Harry left, exhausted, at midnight, having voluntarily put himself through detention 'just because I asked nicely,' she told her husband in fits of giggles.

Severus helped Bilia out of her clothes and into a sheer nightdress. "Others will come demanding lessons," he told her.

"First come, first served."

Harry's main problem at every point was 'well, I never looked it up,' or 'I didn't write that down.' He was terrible at keeping a quill as well. He ended up with a list of important things he'd missed to go and learn, rather than a lecture, and a set of bookmarks in his grubby textbook, marking potions he could safely practice to 'learn by doing, some people just _do_ learn by practice and lectures or books bore them silly...'

He was taught how to prepare for a Potions lesson ahead of time, and _made_ time for it, an idea that was terrible and foreign. Sunday evening if he could get his homework done by Friday, because Ron would be doing _his_ homework then and it wouldn't matter... 

And, obviously, Harry was not to tell anyone he was coming here since she didn't officially exist. This solved the problems of teaching others rather nicely.

"He does it purely to be irritating," Severus told Bilia when she'd done accounting for her very slight increase in influence on Team Green. He scowled at the board. "He could perfectly well study in lessons like every other student, if he wasn't endlessly busy showing off to his friends."

"I'm sure he's everything that is a trial, love," Bilia said, giving a sharp look at the one he'd sent at her. "What? I am meant to champion his cause. It has to be sincere, Severus, or he'll smell a rat."

"Speaking of which... "

Bilia sighed. "Make it worth it, Severus, that's all I ask," she said. "Pickled rats stink. Yes, I'll give the time to you to get the spleens."

He shook his head. "No. I mean yes, by all means do and I'll think of something—"

"Some potion?"

He frowned at the board, rubbing his lips, then put his hand in hers before she could object. "Euphoria," he said. "It won't affect the spleens. I was thinking, actually, that the lack of Wormtail means we can't set up Black to some foolishness that might get him killed."

"No, Severus, he has to live until we get Mrs Weasley to let go of the place, I've explained," she said patiently, getting up and kissing his cheek. "He doesn't even seem to hate you now, did you notice?"

"That's why I would like it if he died, my dear," he said to her, turning to her. "If he starts trying to make friends..." The disgust on his face made him an absolute gargoyle.

"We can't always get what we want, Severus, you know that," Bilia said. "The choice is him or the orange cunt, remember."

"Long live the Blacks," Severus murmured. "You go and relax, I'll clean up."

"Best of husbands. We'll think of something. I mean, we have forever. It's not whether we can get everything we want, it's how."

He gave her a horrible smile. "I've never regretted marrying you," he told her. He glanced at the board, thinking of something, and back at her, studying her face. "Not who I would have chosen, but... I'm glad we're doing this together. Now leave."

She smiled and left, humming a little tune she realised was about a martyr's slow and painful death and passage to heaven, and took up her embroidery from a leather box, to settle down with a stirring wizarding wireless drama about magical smugglers.

Of course, Severus found someone to sort out the rat spleens the next evening. He was like that, entirely capable of manufacturing a reason for detention, and so long as things ran smoothly, Dumbledore never interfered.

* * *

Bilia went to visit Sirius Black, and for once caught him actually on his own. He was unshaven, and she shook her head. "I'll come back when you're presentable," she told him and left, sure she'd seen him reach for her even as she disappeared.

She was back a little later and sniffed, giving a nod and as warm a smile as her pinched features ever managed, but, as with Moody, Sirius apparently became used to it and was warm back. He still had a fleck of foam on his beard, but she let that pass and allowed herself to be warmly welcomed.

"How is he?" Sirius asked, once the niceties had been observed. No need to even ask who 'he' was.

"You have the means to talk, even to visit, don't you?" she asked. "Severus is sure you can get absolutely anywhere you please."

Sirius shook his head, almost a shiver. "Dumbledore would kill me," he said. "If he didn't, Minerva would. You mean Snape wouldn't make you track me down?"

"Only to offer you tea and biscuits, and he doesn't want to sit down and have tea and biscuits with you for a great many reasons. The loathing in his voice is less when he speaks of you," she added fondly. "Still, I wouldn't go leaping on friendship. Good manners is all I ever asked of either of you."

Sirius scowled at an unfortunate and entirely unoffensive tea set that rather startlingly went exactly with the dining room they weren't in and not this larger, shabbier place. She looked around at it, at him.

"Harry," he said, impatiently.

"He's healthy. Not happy, Umbridge is the vilest woman alive I'm sure. I mean without the excuse of being a Death Eater to make her a simple monster that can be entirely explained. However, he doesn't ask easily for help, Sirius, he just takes it out on other students, and then gets chastised for it, and that doesn't help his temper."

"Umbridge has it out for him," Sirius said, looking ready to grab a wand and seek a fight right there and then.

"For everyone, Sirius, but yes, especially for poor Harry and nothing Severus can do while she lords it over his Slytherins. I mean, I'm sure she's blackmailing half the parents who have jobs she can influence. Severus isn't letting me go out where I can be found."

" _Letting_ you?" Sirius said in disbelief.

"It's his job, Sirius, and I'm sure I'm not going to argue with you on that point," Bilia said firmly. "Will you do nothing about the decor here?"

Sirius looked around, confused, shrugged it off, and looked back at her. "Fine. He talks to you, doesn't he? Harry?"

"About Potions. Ingredients. I assume Miss Granger pushed him into taking the help that was offered, but he's learned to mind his manners and we are making good progress. He doesn't share his innermost thoughts with anyone, and if he did confide in an adult, wouldn't it be you? He adores you."

Sirius was warmed by that. "He does?"

"You're the father he never knew, that's absolutely obvious," Bilia said, and watched a dreadful woe descend all at once. "Yes, dear, if you drink in the day then that is what will happen, all your worst memories will descend on you and make you a monster and drive you away from everyone. I *could* slap you, but you'd be better thinking what would James do? I mean other than torment Severus, that should go without saying," she said, giving him a firm look.

Sirius laughed. "I always feel better when you come round," he noted. "Visit more often."

"Not so often that someone decides you need a constant guard," Bilia said with a smile. "But yes, I'll look in and we'll do something about this room at long last, and try to be ready for the holidays, and chase out the gloom."

Sirius grinned, and waivered. "I miss him," he said.

"Then leave the drinking to meetings and concentrate on creating somewhere that doesn't drive you to it, so that you don't greet him looking like a vagabond," she told him. "I'm sure he doesn't need someone he has to look after, given all that's on his plate, do you?"

Sirius clenched his fist, then relaxed and shook his head. "No," he agreed. "He doesn't."

"Time to step up, Sirius," she told him, patting his shoulder. "So, let's see about more seasonal windowboxes for a start, and then this time, perhaps you might consider new wallpaper for this room?" Her tone was wistfully hopeful, and she'd have made big eyes at him if that didn't merely suggest mania.

He changed mood at once and stood up. "Right," he said. "Let's do that."

"Well, do let's finish this cup of tea, but then we'll see what doesn't get thrown into the fire." She was curious. "Why did you leave it as it was?"

"It wasn't as bad and wallpaper's boring," Sirius said, dismissing the question. "Anyway, I wanted a room we could mess about in." He looked around it. "Mother would have done her nut."

"Excellent, well, then, you'll chose a _robust_ wallpaper. Fireproof, I assume. Although if you want to cover it in feathers or newspaper that's your privilege, _I_ do not forget whose house this is." She looked around. "You could be happy, Sirius, it's a choice."

He looked doubtful, but he wasn't arguing, and she would take what she could get.

* * *

Severus would do the same, it turned out, although discussing these growing bonds of arranged friendship was no prelude to lovemaking. The board was a harmless, colourful device to fasten down his thoughts, taking them out of his nice warm home. The rain drubbing on the windows was only fitting. He had tea, not wine, and was brooding a little.

"I know, love, but we want them wrapped around our fingers, even if it _is_ dull and we'd rather they were buried in quicklime."

He shook his head. "Stick to the plan," he said. "No one so far is asking what you're up to. There's some plan to do with the Ministry. No details are forthcoming, merely that the Dark Lord wants to be told should I pick up a whisper of a plan beyond guarding some unknown weapon."

"So we do nothing but chatter in a friendly fashion and wait for someone to be struck. It might not be Team Orange."

"I haven't interfered," Severus said, rubbing his lips. "We'll see." He put the board away.

"A bath," Bilia decided. "Things are getting on top of you again and that always helps. I'll scrub your back and see about relaxing you after, love."

He smiled, as adorable to her eyes as any vampire bat. "Best of wives," he said.

"Well, yes," she agreed comfortably. "You weren't about to marry someone who wasn't competent, were you?" Thus wrapped in mutual smug superiority, they warmed themselves against the coming winter.


	9. Christmas, or the Art of Pretending All Is Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War makes for the most unlikely alliances, especially when moves are being secretly plotted out on a board. The rest is sheer manipulation - and potions.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was bright with gilded tinsel and smelled of pine resin, frankincense, myhrr, cloves-and-oranges or pudding-spices, depending on where in the house you were. 

Harry's own room smelled of cloves-and-oranges and only slightly of teenage boy. There was a walnut desk suited to a schoolboy, in a well-lit corner, and a trio of armchairs in a blue only slightly darker than the faux-marble pattern on the wall. His school trunk was nowhere in sight, every item having been set somewhere in the room, so that he lived here and was, for once, not merely a guest. 

Bilia noted this with approval. She hadn't even suggested to anyone that Harry actually be made at home for once. She did note the old gemstone globe, set with diamonds and thin lines of gilt, a glance only before she settled onto the offered armchair.

"Sirius is talking with the poor Weasley family," she told him. "He asked me to keep you entertained until he's done his duty as host."

"Why can't I be down there?" Harry was sulking, though at least he'd let her in and not slammed the bedroom door in her face.

"They've just had rather a tragedy in the family, and... the situation is extremely awkward, Harry, and needs to be handled with finesse," she said. "Sirius would dearly like to be here with you, but his duties as host force him to attend his guests before he can see to his own foster-son, or godson if you prefer."

"What's a foster-son?"

Bilia was nearly sure, from a few waspish comments from her peevish husband in the past, that if there had been a book entitled _Foster Children Who Excelled at Quidditch_ Harry would have known all about the entire foster system. Or, sadly, and it was better just now to _be_ sad, if there had been some link between the concept of foster children and killing one Tom Marvolo Riddle. "Sirius can't adopt you or be your official guardian, thanks to his being a wanted wizard," she explained, relaxing into her topic and putting down her basket on a helpfully mobile small table. "However, he does foster you, treat you as his own son while you are here, and very gladly, I might add. He's so glad to have you. Guardian sounds too formal for him anyway. Fostering is _usually_ a temporary arrangement, but I expect it will go on for as long as he's allowed to see you." She opened the basket lid, moving things about and opening up a bag out of Harry's sight.

"Why wouldn't—" Harry slammed his mouth and expression shut.

"Severus said, on the grounds that it is understood that you both absolutely loathe one another at school, not that that will be difficult as an act, you would find this drink soothing, but not intoxicating," said Bilia, drawing out a small dark brown bottle and two glasses. "I shall drink with you." She poured a glass of something that fizzed and scintillated, a pale yellow brew, and tasted it, nodding in approval. "That's the stuff," she said with a smile. "His own recipe for when the Dark Lord gets most severely on his nerves. Would you like a glass?"

"All right," said Harry, who had many times seen her bring items for his godfather, always received with delight. He tasted the drink and grimaced a little, but took another sip, then a mouthful after Bilia had drunk properly. "What is it?" he asked.

"Not quite a drink and not quite a potion," she told him. "A magical cordial, I think. Without knowing how it's made, I can't be sure."

"Why doesn't he tell you?" He was so ready to hate Severus on almost any context. And fifteen and mulish, even without a term of goading from untouchable Umbridge.

Bilia ignored this invitation to a nice soothing row with her usual calm display of good temper, explaining to a dear friend. "It's still somewhat experimental, so he wants reports on the effect that aren't influenced by knowledge of the brewing. Of course, he's rather limited in... tasters, until this dreadful war is finally over, then he hopes to set himself up in commerce, like your own gandfather, Fleamont Potter."

Harry looked at a shelf as he gave that unconscious nod. There was a Potter history upon the shelf that contained his own personal library, as opposed to the one for schoolbooks. An arranged birthday present, rather belatedly given. Then looked back, at her, at this small sitting room, at the door with his friends and allies beyond, downstairs, where he was forbidden to go. No sounds to give a clue.

"So..." he said, working up to some demand or wheedle. A child, Bilia reminded herself. And tired, with deep circles under his eyes, reminding her of Severus in his last year before Nagini had granted Death's sweet release.

"So... it's something like four in the morning, and you look as though you woke up sweated from a nightmare. You could go into the next room and emerge fit to be seen, since you're not going to go to sleep. Without wishing to cause offence, Harry, there's a distinct tinge of unwashed schoolboy to the air, and you'll feel better. I'll be happy with my knitting until you return."

"Mrs Weasley knits."

What that was supposed to mean, Bilia had no idea, but she ran with it. No one was shouting or running about, which made this conversation a success. "I've never seen her do it. Mrs Figg knits, every meeting, and I do too, since we never have very much to add. Kreacher will see you it you're clean, dry, comfortable and dignified, which will make people treat you just a little more like an actual adult. Perhaps not so formal as at the trial, but still, well-looked-after." Indeed, Kreacher was there, as if he just happened to be passing, wearing a red pillowcase that clashed hideously with his olive green skin, tied round with tinsel.

Harry nodded, giving Kreacher a worried, hunted look, then, with another look at the open bedroom door, he finished his glass before disappearing off. Bilia sat and knitted and watched the door.

Sirius was there by the time Harry emerged, and once Harry did, Sirius closed the door. Bilia did not hide her surprise, but she did pour out more glasses of the pale yellow soothing cordial.

"Harry," Sirius said, and embraced him. "Sorry about that. You need a firm hand with Mrs Weasley or she just takes over, not that she's here yet. They're all set up in rooms, anyway, since Dumbledore has decided they're staying. At least he's letting me see you this time." His grin didn't hide the slightly bitter tone.

"How's Mr Weasley?" Harry wanted to know. "And why is she here?"

Bilia gave Sirius an unhappy look, which Harry caught. Flushed, he spoke again.

"Why is Mrs Snape here? Why not just me and you?"

"Mrs Snape has Feel-Better Fizz," said Sirius. "We both need it. Arthur's... in good hands, that's all any of us know. Molly will let us know one way or the other."

"She's not having any of the cordial," said Bilia. "Feel-Better Fizz is an _excellent_ name for it, Sirius, do you mind if I pass that along?"

"It doesn't seem his style."

"His style isn't exactly designed to please the masses," said Bilia. "Am I here then to dispense potions and go?"

"That depends," said Sirius. "Harry, mind telling both of us what actually happened?"

Bilia was, again, openly surprised. "I take it this does _not_ get back to Severus," she said. "He'll want to know about the... fizz."

"It works," said Sirius. He was more interested in Harry, sitting in an armchair with his elbows resting on his knees so he could lean forward.

Harry gave a nod of that decision being made and settled into the third armchair, set around a pale blue and silver patterned rug with swimming mermaids and fish scales. Not ideal, but they could redecorate more to Harry's taste over the summer.

"I had this...like a dream..." he said, opening up to Sirius alone just now.

Sirius and Bilia, unlike the fool Headmaster, were warm listeners and met his eyes, and he was feeling soothed by the potion in any case. It was merely a more stable form of the tea that Kreacher would be brewing all of them the entire holidays.

Calm discussion. No histrionics. The emotions would come out once the tea entirely left their system, but it bought all of them necessary breathing space. The Feel-Better Fizz did not stop Sirius from warmly embracing Harry, any number of times, nor their both cracking jokes.

Soon enough, the debriefing was over, one more counter to arrange for different teams. Green and Black closer to being Green-and-Black, but not there yet. Deep Purple tightening their hold upon both, simply by being both thoughtfully kind and very useful.

"So..." said Bilia after another drink. "You know, we all know, that my husband is consistently, blatantly and loudly unkind to you, Harry, to all the Gryffindors, but most especially to you, the enemy of his master."

Harry was suddenly, sharply interested. "Yes?"

Sirius was mildly wary.

Bilia put the empty glasses and bottle away. "Severus will need to continue to be just as nasty, as angry, as spiteful and as childish," she told them both. "It's not really a game, not when lives depend on his being... vile. I can mediate, but only to a mild extent. He's a dark wizard, Harry, Sirius, I'm not pretending he isn't, or that it's an act, since he really _does_ do dreadful things, when he's away from home. Whether it's a good or a vile thing, he knows more about the Dark Arts than anyone else who isn't actively insane. I can offer... advice that could seem to have come from the Black library. I have access to all of my husband's books. If both of you trust me, I can look things up and I think you both do, or we wouldn't be here."

Agreement on that score.

"The thing is, if I begin looking things up willy-nilly, to research this link between you both, I risk getting sucked in, as my husband no doubt did, though we do not talk about it. I... would want and need his help to safely research this. To tell you what is going on. Obviously, the Headmaster knows, or will know, because Severus will tell him as soon as that information is demanded. He hasn't _forbidden_ you from knowing, but obviously he has not shared his thoughts upon it either. So, I leave it to both of you, foster-father and foster-son, godfather and godson, to decide what I should share with both of you. I do strongly suggest, Sirius, that you do not keep secrets from Harry for the sake of keeping secrets. When he is being dragged into unwilling visions, it smacks of cruelty to tell him he's not supposed to know about arrangements for his own safety... or sanity. Or whether his foster-father will be around or is being sent away. You'll need to decide right and wrong for your own selves, as a family. How is it Harry's two friends are not banging on the door?"

"Hermione's not here, or not here _yet_ , and Ron's looking after his sister, for the sake of propriety," said Sirius. "They and the twins are in connecting rooms downstairs. Up here, it's just you and me, Harry."

"And invited visitors," smiled Bilia. "I didn't say, but I do so admire the effect of Christmas about the house, and Harry, those clothes suit you so I assume Kreacher chose them?"

Harry nodded, looking confused.

"You're not insane nor about to go insane, breakfast isn't for at least an hour, no one is bleeding, nothing is on fire that should not be, and it's nice to remember, isn't it, that though bad things _have_ happened, they aren't happening here and now. Mr Weasley is in good hands and any chance he has at life at all is down to your own prompt actions. The problem is not your being able to see, as such. It's your being dragged into seeing without volition, and then, of course, not being able to see when you might very much want to. First, Harry, we switch it off, then we learn how to switch it back on again without inviting him to look out of your eyes. Has there been any sense of that, a sense that it wasn't just you? A sign of another presence looking out?"

"Dumbledore," said Harry. "When I looked at him.... I hated him."

"But you don't now."

Harry shook his head.

Bilia considered her host. "This isn't something I can do alone, and you're not leaping up with answers," she told him.

"It's up to Harry," said Sirius, a hand clutching onto a goblet, eyes on Harry alone.

Bilia smiled and folded her hands upon her lap.

"If he helps, will he have to tell anyone?" Harry wanted to know, worried. Suspicious too.

"He'll be helping his wife, Harry. Your name will not come into it. Vows prevent him blurting out anything that is hidden within our own marriage, and I would rather be protected from such a thing myself, now I realise it is magically possible. He'll protect me, because he loves me very much."

Harry nodded, still grimacing at the idea. "All right," he said.

Bilia sighed. "Harry, please," she said. "I'm not a much-disliked servant, am I? Did I suddenly become one in your eyes, because I happen to help my husband in the laboratory?"

"You'll be there, won't you?" said Harry. "You could carry messages..." He looked at Sirius with longing.

"I can do better than that," said Sirius. "You have to promise not to tell anyone. No offence, Bilia, but this can't get back to Snape."

"None taken and in that case, do not tell me. I know nothing. Harry, would you care perhaps to ask me nicely to help?"

Harry hated to do so, so even Sirius ended up chiding him for his sullen attitude, and then suddenly he was very polite again and being smiled upon and warmly embraced.

"That's so much better, when we're all dear, kind friends and not nearly enemies," she said happily. "If all other means of communication fail, I can pass things on, but I am friendly with Sirius first, Harry, and then with you through him. Becoming too friendly with your friends would endanger them and irritate Mrs Weasley. Now, as it happens, none but Sirius know I was even here, so I shall be leaving by this floo if _both_ of you are willing to allow it."

* * *

"Team Orange is still winning over Team Green, compared to Team Deep Purple, but Team Deep Purple have controlling interest over Team Black," Bilia happily reported. "Blood-Red lost a counter on Green and Black both by being a complete idiot. He only has one counter now on each, that given by virtue of position and control."

They were in the black-and-green furnished dining room, rendered somewhat brighter with all the silver tinsel and the many small candles. Unlike the rest of the house, this room smelled of cinnamon and apple, rather than dark green pine. 

"And Parchment-Small?" asked Severus, who was relaxing in nearly-black evening clothes over which he could throw whichever robes suited whichever master he was summoned by. They both had dark red wine, made from hedgerow fruit.

"Deeply under Blood-Red's thumb, maintaining two counters upon Team Green, none up on Team Black, four blood-red counters upon herself, two of orange. No counters from the team at her square not in play. Other than her errands for Blood-Red, or Orange, or Green, or her own plans, she is independent. She invited herself along to the house for Christmas, supposedly, catching the Knight Bus, and is now glueing Team Orange and Team Green together."

Bilia moved the smaller orange pieces around the green pawn and checked the counters. "Her move puts an orange counter back on Team Green. Team Black is, at present, merely equal to that established partnership."

"We'll see how things stand by the new year," said Severus. "They are going to be bored, given that they will be waiting for news that will not arrive until he recovers. I'll be going in to work with Healer Pye, you'll be Mediwitch Bennet, I'll be Dominic Prendergast."

"Goodness, really? Oh, wait... is that his son?"

"Nephew. His son died in mysterious circumstances as a child. Very probably, Dominic is the heir. Bennet is close to being fired for being slightly too supportive of the insane attention seeker."

"Poor girl. Team Green then, a new piece on the board if we play correctly. One with no influence from any other team currently in play..."

Severus considered the matter and set a piece in place, with a square connected only to St Mungo's. "A healer that is not Blood-Red would be very useful," he said.

"I'll get to know her, as a stranger in passing. Let's put this away then, and go and rehearse." She eyed the silver pieces thoughtfully, then set the board back in its usual cabinet, closing the glass door with a click.

* * *

Dominic Prendergast could send Molly Weasley packing when Healer Pye apparently could not, angrily asking when she thought she might have qualified as a fully-trained healer, since she did not seem to have been registered on the staff of St. Mungo's.

Bilia heard about it later. She was busy looking after the Long Term Spell Damage Ward, saving the life of Broderick Bode with a juvenile flitterbloom plant in a carefully-duplicated pot. All under the eye of the Longbottoms and Harry and his friends.

It cost nothing to be friendly to all of them, while she was playing Bennet, and to give Harry a quiet word of support, before she was snapped at by Thorne for bothering visitors and sent off to go and clean bedpans. Really, it could not have gone more perfectly.

The real Bennet had to be convinced that she'd been at work for a while and that she'd done as she was, anyway, inclined to do, and been snapped at. She had no idea about the changed-over pot-plant. Helping at the Janus Thickey ward was no surprise, nor that Dominic Prendergast had been the one to arrange it.

Careful observation made it apparent that the Confundus Charms had stuck in place, as Bennet went off to go and be very much herself. 

Blood-Red could well find out that Bennet was a well-wisher, depending on whether or not Hermione was reporting things. That was still very different from her becoming a gaming-piece. Once she was let go, and that was very much on the cards, Severus and Bilia could nab her. It would take funds to keep her...

Plans. Nothing definite. Bilia would find a persona to slip harmlessly about and find out what she could of Bennet's life.

* * *

"Your faces!" Bilia said, now she was in the actual kitchen. She was glad to note that it did not stink of anyone's tobacco. There was a distinct smell of onions indicating some meal was underway, or perhaps it was there to put people off. Behind that was a herby smell, probably thyme. No cabbage or boiling bones. A stock pot stood, tightly sealed and made of bright burnished copper. Indication that Kreacher was becoming jealous of his territory?

She looked back at her husband and his host and cracked a smile again. "Well, never mind that," she said. She smiled at Harry. "I'm so sorry you were dragged into this with no notice," she told him. "Obviously, I'll be at school, but I cannot stand to hear complaints about my husband, when he _must_ loathe you and _must_ report. The plan, very obviously, is to crack you open from both sides so that you can be sent running to some false vision. Some friend of yours in need of rescue, do you think that would work?"

Sirius nodded.

Harry winced and nodded, more reluctantly.

She hugged him and gave him a smile when he did not actively push her away. "Not fun, is it, to be used that way?" she said. "I won't pretend, at all, that it isn't going to be awful. Until Severus has taught you several times, we shan't know what is expected or reported. Do, please, hate him as much as every you like, just do not ask me, Harry, ever, to conspire against the man I love, all right?" She met his gaze, adult to adult. He wasn't that short now, apparently just about where his own father had been in height at that same age. Several inches still to go, in other words.

Harry took a breath and let it out. "All right," he said. "I can't feel anything now."

"That's a good start. We'll start, then, with a bedtime routine that is as unvarying as we can make it. We can compare, can't we, the routines for myself and yourself and Sirius and Severus, setting a sense of what is normal. At your age, Harry, you need to wash more frequently— I do see the thought there, Harry, do try to keep that out of your face, it makes it more difficult to pluck from your mind."

Severus, sitting watching at his usual seat, was entirely impassive, and soon his supposed enemies had a fairly good idea of routine and the knowledge, the very secret knowledge, that they both oiled their hair for various different reasons not actually explored. Sirius had things he routinely did, but no routine, but to help Harry, he would set them in order, so that Harry would know, for example, when he was relaxing before bedtime in his dressing gown, and when he was still in the bath. It made arranging meetings easier, at Easter and during the summer.

There was no doubt, now that Harry and Voldemort shared blood, that any protections wrought by his mother's sacrifice were entirely moot. The attack by the Dementors proved that. On the other hand, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Dumbledore would know if Harry left, and take it somewhat askance. Sirius had been kept away for a full month and was never left alone in the house with Harry. 

"It's far easier, isn't it, if you're dead and they can bundle Harry off to the Burrow," said Bilia thoughtfully. "Sorry, Sirius, you know I don't wish you dead, and I am not saying that that's at all the plan, but now you're both good friends, how are they to justify keeping Hermione and all the Weasleys here and Harry stuck with his mother's sister and her family?"

Sirius glanced at Severus, who remained impassive.

"I'm not planning anything with him here," he decided. "It'll be... tricky. Look... I don't think Dumbledore wants me actually dead."

"With respect, _Mr_ Black, your continued existence is very obviously an inconvenience to several people's plans," said Severus. "Molly Weasley cannot maintain as tight a grip over the wizarding world's most famous orphan if you continue to be around to act as a loving parent. Nor is she fond of being reminded that this is not her house and that she must mind her manners. Other Blacks would have to wonder when you might ever come to be legitimate, although that is a fading hope if no one has acted by now, after more than two full years. They would be concerned with your access to the Lestrange estate and vaults. Not that the subject has come up where I can hear, nor do I expect it to."

"It would be a legitimate concern of theirs, yes," said Bilia. "Narcissa has less of a claim, despite being a sister. Do you know what happened to all the _other_ Black properties? All thoses aunts and uncles and cousins and so on that were around until the early nineteen-nineties?"

"I can find out," said Sirius. "Kreacher can probably let me know."

"He's not allowed out of the house," said Harry with a frown. "Is he?"

"He'll still know," said Sirius, side-stepping the question. "Well, probably."

"It's a shame you have no other loyal house-elf to call upon," said Bilia with a sigh. "So, then, we are agreed, aren't we, that _everyone_ wants you to be able to say no to unwanted visions? That would be the first step to being in complete control.... if he worked hard, Severus, how long would it take for him to close his mind?"

"Three months," said Severus. "I shall be... busy and leaving you to mind the laboratory, while I accede to the whims of my master - not one word, Potter, we are not friends." His tone was so sharp that Sirius and Harry both bridled by reflex.

"So, playing that part will not be difficult," said Bilia. "Manners, please, all of you."

"My apologies," said Severus, and Harry gave a slight nod, although he hadn't relaxed. Sirius gave Bilia an admiring glance, and she shared a smile, then went back to business.

"Three months then," Bilia prompted her husband.

"One month of no access at all, bringing us to mid-May before we would be _sure_ that your mind was fully closed,' said Severus. "By design, the lessons will be thoroughly miserable for both of us, and by design, will leave you more open than before to various influences. I shall be all that is intrusive, unpleasant, even despicable. So long as you do your homework, our antipathy will not matter but we _must_ not be friends. It will help if you dwell upon how vile I am for that evening. So long as you can clear and calm your mind the evenings after—"

"Which I can help you do," said Bilia. "I can teach Sirius and he can teach you, that's easier."

Both nodded.

"This cannot get back to anyone, not even Ron or Hermione," said Bilia. "It's... I don't like it much, but it's good that they mistrust me somewhat because of my connection to my husband. You'll know differently. That practice, keeping a secret even from your dearest, closest friends will make you guard your thoughts, speech and expression and, dear Harry, _nothing_ could be better for a student of occlumency. They may know the surface; that you are getting training from my husband and do not expect to enjoy it."

Harry nodded, eyeing Snape, who was as stone. He looked back at Bilia, shifting his plain wooden dining chair so that he did not have to look at Severus.

"So, we have what we know, and what your close friends know, and what everyone else knows... shall we get them clear in your mind?"

"My part in this particular conversation is done," said Severus, and with a nod to Sirius, he left rather abruptly for Spinner's End.

After the surprised silence and the fading of the flame, Bilia took a deep breath and smiled on their new allies. "Well, then," she said. "Let's see about making this work as smoothly as we could all want, before people start banging on that door and demanding to know what we're up to."

"That we are," Sirius said, letting an arm rest on Bilia and taking a slap with good humour. He glanced at the door and back. "They'll be back soon enough. Kreacher. Keep an eye out, there's a good elf," he said, gathering the little nod of approval. "So, then, what we know is..."

And so they plotted and Bilia could at last go home and report a success, over rather a good lunch her husband had thoughtfully set out. Hoping for a reward, very obviously, but she didn't begrudge him even a little.


	10. Look Not At What They Say, But What They Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though they seem to be gathering influence, the plotting pair need more information than they've been getting. Harry Potter might actually have a brain cell. And the Snapes aren't the only ones who loathe all of Wizarding Society.

Severus and Bilia Snape, husband and wife, were enjoying yet another cordial evening together after a good meal, in their severe dining room and looking at the state of a large gaming-board on the glossy black table.

"One counter off for Parchment Small," said Bilia happily. "He made the decision fully, now he's with the big boys and girls playing bigger games. She no longer has access to all his thoughts and feelings. She is patterning herself off Molly Weasley, which doesn't help."

Counters moved around, and they looked over each piece one by one. No news of any real change in established pieces. Bennet still only had one green counter.

Severus added another three pieces, pale grey and smooth, in a large grey square connected to nothing. One purple counter was put next to the medium piece.

"Really?" said Bilia.

"Barely." He considered matters, and put two pale grey counters next to his own dark purple piece. "It is there mainly so I do not forget."

"We could do the other side of the board."

Severus cast, and turned it over, so that the three grey pieces, and his, were in the same places on the other side. The board now had legs upon each corner. "Very well. Let us consider the individual pieces..."

They set things out, and now Bilia knew far more than she had about the current state of play with the Death Eaters, though of course she knew who each person was, from having lived Severus Snape's original life alongside him, or at least having the same memories of his last eight years as he did, before he died horribly to Voldemort's own snake.

Nagini was very definitely, once again, a Horcrux, for the possession to have worked as it did. The Malfoys were being crushed underfoot, their lovely manor house turned into a shambles. The entire point of the display was that they were slaves, there to do the Dark Lord's bidding, with perhaps some mouthings about a continued punishment for thirteen years of neglect and failure to seek him. 

"The diary is not being mentioned. I know of it still only through Lucius's indiscretion, and he did not mention, at all, that it was the Dark Lord's or given to him for safekeeping."

"I'll bet it was one, though, and that hole through it was put there by a basilisk fang. Slytherin's monster, killed by the Sword of Gryffindor, full of basilisk venom, the diary slain by a fang, its victim rescued. A death to store the piece of soul and a death to pull it out again."

"Unless you're involved."

"Magical theory moved on a few steps by my time. We knew _why_ intent mattered, why the Dark Arts were so powerful compared to other magic, what rituals did and could not do. In my own time, I'm no Dumbledore. Merely intelligent and determined."

"And fast."

"None faster," she said with a smile. "Literally. A way of stepping outside and back into time, so there's nothing to see to even begin to start dodging."

"Why do I not have that trick?" Given that he was picking up the methods she used by mere repeated example, it was a fair question. It wasn't for want of trying, certainly.

Bilia nodded at his arm. "I won't let, and nor will you, we won't let future magic slip down that link when it's quite that dangerous. In theory, you should know how to make it work, so it's somehow your fault you don't, and probably quite sensible."

"I shall do to the Malfoys what you did to Sirius Black. In my case, a relationship is already established, but a few shows of hidden kindness, a listening, non-judgemental ear..."

"Can you get Draco?"

Severus shook his head. "He's crowing over me, just now, that the Malfoys are far closer to the Dark Lord than I, because of course he is aware that they go to meetings and that I am rarely, if ever called."

"Because you're slipping there on the q.t."

"Very probably, several of us are, but Lucius and Narcissa cannot be unaware, and they do not correct Draco."

"Lucius does not want to show himself a slave."

"Narcissa will not want him for that either."

"I suppose you'll find out how easily and immediately any attempt at happiness is crushed."

"Her sister hangs about her, so there is not a great deal to be found. Nor can I remind her that Lucius is a host, the way you took to doing."

Bilia smiled, a hand upon his arm. "Wasn't that amusing?" she smiled. "Put the board away, then, now you have ideas. Let's read for the rest of the evening. No wine either. Tomorrow's a work day."

Severus pecked her cheek and they moved off, with no sign whatsoever that they had ever been a romantic couple at all, until they'd been reading a while and looked up at the same time and their glances met and shared a close accord.

The game could be amusing, with the right attitude. Now they studied to see what alternate moves might be available.

* * *

Harry was helping go through some ten thousand beetle eyes to cast out the ones that were not still fresh. Specifically, the eyes were taken from a type of tiger beetle, of which species Harry was now very well informed and had worked out, all by himself, several unexpected properties that these beetle eyes might impart to potions, even the broken or shrivelled ones. At five sickles a scoop, sorting through them was ridiculous parsimony, but, as she said, it stopped students being able to blame anyone but themselves for failure. 

"And if we duplicated them, what properties would they impart then?" she asked.

"Um... just the most common? Just the properties for any beetle."

"Look it up to be sure, but your instincts are spot on. You have a knack for Potions," she told him, gathering a startled look. "Instincts tell you _where_ to look, and roughly what to expect, Mr Potter. Experience will give you truth, but you don't need to do all that drudge work when someone has followed paths to every dead end already. Just practice a few example potions."

Harry nodded. 'If I can get time,' he said. He clenched his fists and relaxed them, took a breath and picked up the separating tool again.

"I have no doubt a suitable essay will come along through sheer coincidence," she smiled. They worked on in a remarkably relaxed silence until it was done. "There, so, that's them separated now into hundreds, and we know good from bad by sight, so how do we _not_ spend the next several days going through them one by one?"

"A sieve."

"Let's try and see what works."

"You already know," Harry said, chafing at the waste of time. His scowl was easy to loathe.

"Try again?" Bilia said, suddenly not so friendly, her eyebrows raised as though Mrs Weasley had once again raised her voice at the dinner table.

Harry was duly abashed, his face going red. "You already know, don't you, Mrs Snape?"

She smiled upon him once more. "I know _one_ method, but discoveries come from people working things out for themselves. I know it isn't any sort of charm, but we can think about it for an hour or so, and then test examples to see what difference they make in a sample potion."

There was, in fact, a perfectly good charm, but Harry was fine in Charms and rather lacking both in Transfiguration basics and in critical thinking. He liked best those idea he came up with himself, and Bilia was slowly getting better and better at guiding him.

All three had decided that Remedial Potions would be far better all round if, _before_ Severus flayed open Harry's mind, he had actually been learning Remedial Potions. Harry needed the Outstanding mark if he was to become an auror, and with more gentle instruction, could actually start to really learn. Not that he was all that awful on the basics, to his very great surprise. Just, not where he needed to be for the Outstanding mark that Severus demanded, mainly on the grounds that students who passed _his_ N.E.W.T.s did not go on later to die in perfectly stupid accidents. Bilia didn't even know what the story behind that one was. The twins had done perfectly all right without him.

Once Harry had worked out, all by himself, that fresh beetle eyes would respond differently to Transfiguration than stale, assuming that he _knew_ there was a difference, and assuming that knowing made a difference, he set his own questions to have answered by Hermione Granger if he didn't mind endangering this entire setup, or by looking up things in the library if he did.

"Ask her to teach you how to find the right books yourself," Bilia suggested. "Not for this, but in general. The next piece of homework you have... say History of Magic as a difficult one to be really sure once you have the hang of it. Then obviously Potions and Transfiguration. If she dislikes having to be the one to find things, she'll help you become independent. If she likes having that... knowledge of your reading, then she will be reluctant, because it stops her keeping such a close eye on you, or perhaps because she likes to know that you _do_ need her, so... try to find something for which you need her, and only her. Fourth year History of Magic revision, say."

Harry noted it all down, and their lesson was over. She rang a bell, then disappeared off into some other room, leaving Harry quite alone with only potions ingredients for company.

Disagreeable tones soon indicated that the occlumency training was back underway. The only cure for the resulting headache was a good night's sleep, always easier _after_ you'd cleared your mind, which was always easier after you'd had said good night's sleep.

In other words, the training period could not be otherwise than extremely rough, until by some miracle or other Harry wrested control over his emotions.

Harry left looking very closed off and somewhat green around the gill, and Severus oozed quietly into his laboratory, carrying a small stone bowl. 

Bilia was interested, very. "Not actually a complete nightmare then," she said, getting up and seeing to the door.

He put the bowl down. "I assume you lean on Black and Black leans on the brat." He scowled. "Warning him that I would be going after any memory he had strong feelings about helped," he admitted with loathing. "Thank you. Let's get on with it." He dipped his wand in the bowl, pulled out a wriggling white gelatinous strand and let it slide into his temple.

She came over to gaze upon the stone bowl, forgiving his waspishness with a kiss. "Naturally, if Harry is left alone with this at any point, he is going to plunge right into those memories."

"Obviously, but I do not dare do anything that is not entirely expected. I have just a little time each lesson to examine the bowl while Potter is otherwise occupied, thank you for that." He picked up the bowl and turned it over, and considered it without doing anything. He looked at her as if for some answer or action.

"What are we doing?" Bilia asked, looking at the bowl itself now, waving a hand over the top to brush the magic and get some sense of the thing.

"Marriage to you has reminded me that at one point I was an inventor, and this seems too useful to hand tamely back like a borrowed fish-kettle. What do you know of it?"

"It's legend, Severus. But we can take a look," she said.

He ran his own wand over it. "If we examine it, then I can always have just reclaimed my memories, and if we try to use it, we're too likely to be caught. It sees the past, Bilia."

"You'd be able to see the future too..." She nodded and gave it her full attention, but the simple stone bowl was not about to give up any of its secrets easily.

* * *

Home straight after another sour meeting with Dumbledore, and straight to the board after a cursory meal of egg and chips with plenty of salt to go around. 

"Getting information from Piggy is like getting blood out of a stone. We can assume Silver-Small has one more Blood-Red counter we forgot to add when she was rescued from exile," said Bilia. "Silver-Backside has one as his only influence... so far..."

"It would not be in character for me to do anything else but avoid him, if I even had the time. He is, after all, a beast and belongs in the Forbidden Forest, not the school."

"No, I agree. It would be, is for me. I'm usually only in your domain, though..."

"Better you do not suddenly emerge," Severus decided. "Mention of you has never come up in meetings, not with any member of staff."

"Then we shall leave that blood-red counter unchallenged," said Bilia. "Two, at least, I should think. Not that it matters. And Silver-Small?"

"I continue to be happy to avoid her. Any information she could give would have to be reported. She blathers incessantly."

"Still, this redundancy, this duplication of effort indicates that Divination _is_ important to him," Bilia said.

"Whatever he implies to the contrary. What does your superior wisdom say?"

Bilia snorted. "That relying on them now is a gamble. Only... Legend has it that, whatever happened to us, the Light side won. Then again, legend says Blood-red was as wise as Merlin, noble, kind to all, and not half-mad, manipulative, callous, controlling and drawn to power. Power with a smile and kind words, but still... author of misery. And leading Piggy to suicide. In legend he jumps back up again." She smiled to share the joke.

"Unlikely. You said nothing changed, it's a blip in history."

"Win or lose, it's no good if we're neither of us there to enjoy it, love. Did you want change?"

"I could want my House to be less despised."

"Snape or Slytherin?" Bilia asked, leaning on her chin, staring at him, ignoring a fallen yellow piece.

He looked away and back, and focused on the silver pieces. "Very well," he said. "It's easy to be drawn in and forget where my true priorities should lie."

"That won't happen if we're firm in our knowledge of the future we're aiming for."

"You said coins were reliable, but even a hint might be better than nothing. We can test any knowledge we get. No more blindly following a path, Bilia. I'll make my own."

Bilia set the yellow piece up, and its ivory bead and its blood-red counters. "Given history... yes, all right. Let's have all the resources Blood-red is laying claim to."

They were suddenly in the market for a silver piece with only deep purple counters. 

That an owl arrived at the window that moment with directions to find one wa deeply disconcerting, as was the little note it carried, but by the time they found themselves standing ankle-deep in water at the base of a cliff, they were fully convinced.

* * *

They made their very tedious way up to the top, by a winding path that gave good view of a cloud that was, indeed, shaped like an elephant from just this point of view and outside the scope of normal magic. Knocked at the door and startled a blackbird.

A witch very like a cottage loaf set into a dress and with an extra bun set on the top opened the door, delighted to see them, her smile very wide and white. "Felicity Bright," she said. "It's never to my benefit to let anyone see me, but, well, you have my references." She glanced at the basket that Bilia had made appear in her hand and, offered it, took it. 

"Very convincing ones. What can you do for us?" Bilia asked, following their host inside.

"Tea and tarot, to concentrate the mind, some crystal gazing and reading the smoke. Sheep entrails are extra." She stared at Severus and shook her head. Took the hand she gestured for, that he let her see and put it down. "I can't stop an early death, even if it's a mild inconvenience... " A look at Bilia. "Death..." she said, and shook her head again. "Never mind that then, we'll stick to cards, unless you're a necromancer. You feel as though you could be. Later if not now."

"I'm not," said Bilia. "We'll do it your way."

"Even with the death omens," Severus said, going to the very lacy-covered parlour and settling down. 

"The price is that you help my sister and nephew survive," Felicity said. "Extra food, clothes, potions. No one else is going to. Not a Shacklebolt, you see." She looked between them both. "No, you don't get it. I'm good, but it's not worth my while letting anyone find me, so... one of you has to look after my sister, and you'll get... readings. Just make sure no one ever finds out about any of us."

"We will," said Severus, very much more impressed than Bilia had been.

"How accurate would you say you were?" Bilia said. 

"Two times out of three? That's a lot better than chance. Decide when we're done."

They left by an entirely different route, taking a muggle bus of all things, leaning on each other. The sky was a blank white, the bus fuggy and loaded with strangers, the seaside town brightened only by plastic tat. 

Home was orderly, clean, quiet, predictable and smelled of mutton stew. 

"So..." Bilia said, taking off her coat and stowing it in the cupboard.

"I'll take it," Severus said, handing his over as well. "Unless you have reservations."

"I like her. Someone who won't go near Wizarding Britain unless she can get some direct benefit, what's not to admire? Your early death isn't set in stone, love, and... if it is..."

He gave a slight smile. "Then we start again, presumably." He stepped back and into their living room, flicking post into a tray with a single fluid gesture.

"Knowing more than we did. My love, it might be a very long war because we _are_ dealing with idiots and thugs and thuggish idiots and the occasional lunatic. And your teaching schedule."

They moved straight on to the kitchen. "Victory by the many branching path."

"It's plausible. But they often are. It's not a good set of omens, no, but we'll keep trying until it's obvious we should stop and..."

"And?" They'd set the kettle up, the bread and cheese were sliced and the butter being coaxed out of ice-box rigidity. 

Bilia set the grill going, with a bang, and let him rescue her eyebrows. "Wretched thing. I need to change the timing on the flame. Again."

"There." He smoothed a thumb over her brows. Kissed her lips and looked into her eyes. "Until it's obvious we should stop and..."

"I don't know, love. Probably die a hideous death and if I can make it my turn, I will. We're comfortable, Severus. We can be comfortable again."

He turned away and set up cheese on toast, and she saw to the tea, both settled on some uncomfortable thoughts.

When the summons arrived to another meeting, their swearwords were exactly identical.


	11. Death Omens Don't Mean Death Until They Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with foresight, navigating a path to safety isn't certain or easy, and their allies are hardly reliable. Battle looms and the Snapes need to grab what happiness they can.

The absence of Mundungus Fletcher had added a general improvement to the atmosphere at Order meetings, but Bilia had helped to take that one step further. Soft breezes fell onto the table from above, smelling somewhat of honeysuckle and pushing various personal odours out into ventilation grates. It only made the kitchen even chillier in the winter, but this was midsummer.

Bilia had her knitting, a dark brown item of fine cashmere wool, now her bright and cheery grass-green cardigan with silver daisies was all done. Whatever this was, it was quite clearly going to be more elegant. Arabella Figg was knitting socks, no better than the lumpy jumpers and crocheted robes that various Weasleys wore. 

Bilia clearly always wore her best clothes to these meetings, making a real effort, and so did Severus when he was allowed to. If he turned up dishevelled and stinking of the Dark Arts or blood, he always prefaced his greetings with "Forgive me, Albus, I came here as soon as I could get away." This was one of those such evenings.

"Take a seat, have some wine," Sirius suggested. "There, niceties seen to." Routine, his tone said, and the others waited to hear the news to the clicking of knitting needles and the quiet clink of Kingsley Shacklebolt refilling his goblet.

Severus inclined his head and took his place.

"You have something to report?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange accused me of disloyalty and I had to go in to answer for my movements. Obviously I was not killed," he said, looking around at faces largely full of disinterest or distaste. "Just as obviously, since I am not the Secret Keeper, I am myself and not another disguised in polyjuice. I have been elevated above all others. Another of the Dark Lord's games. The struggle to be the Dark Lord's most trusted is constant and unwavering, and Bellatrix Lestrange is bound to tear me down before the others just for being high in the Dark Lord's regard. He has entrusted me with an important task. If I fail in _this_ task, she will probably get the victory she is seeking, and I... will not be reporting here, or anywhere else soon after. She will be seeking to destroy me and if I fail in this task, so will the Dark Lord. He was perfectly explicit. I will make happen what he wants to happen, or no longer be welcome in his company."

Dumbledore gravely inclined his head, while Bilia quietly gauged the mood of all present at this do-or-die proclamation. Once again, Severus had spoken the exact, but slightly misleading truth, and, since he was endeavouring to communicate clearly, if only to Bilia, he would not be setting off any sneakoscope that Moody might have in his pocket.

"I shall want a word with you about the exact nature of your task later, so we can make plans," said Dumbledore, saving Severus a certain amount of dissembling. "Will you be sharing it with Bilia?"

"No. My wife is not a Death Eater and has no intention of becoming embroiled in that side of the war."

"Quite right," said Bilia cheerfully, putting down her knitting for a moment. "None of them are my favourite sort of people, excepting for just one, and affairs of the heart often _are_ difficult to fathom to outsiders. Did you happen to find out if there is any sort of concerted plan to destroy overseas trade?"

"It has not been mentioned," said Severus.

Bilia nodded, going straight back to her work, all interest in the meeting having fled, apparently.

"Several potions ingredients are coming up short," Moody said, his tone slightly belligerent. "Know anything about that, would you, Snape?"

Severus waited for Dumbledore to respond, ignoring mutters that stopped as soon as Bilia took an interest.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus inclined his head and reported to Moody. "I would, but only from the receiving end. I'm likely to have difficulties securing several items for next year over the summer. If... if it were one of the Dark Lord's schemes then I might expect someone to ask about it, even if only by inference. With the escape of so many criminals from Azkaban, I can only assume that people with wealth are becoming nervous and strangling supply, quite possibly within the Ministry."

"I can look into it," suggested Kingsley.

Dumbledore nodded an assent, and they moved on to the next item, guarding Harry over the summer.

Not once was it suggested that Sirius, under an invisibility cloak, might be remotely useful. Not once was there any single plan for him. He supplied a kitchen, sometimes an entire house, and good wine very easily restored from part-empty bottles now that they were having their goblets filled and not dragging out bottles from the cellars themselves. Kreacher was becoming something of a sommelier, while Bilia's, Severus's and Sirius's tastes were expanding.

* * *

Bilia saw Sirius at home the next day. His own occlumency was coming along nicely, turning his eyes into silver mirrors devoid of any trace of thought, but not yet a warm and vital person full of false memories. He only needed to be good enough to fool a person at a glance, and Severus had not been told about these lessons.  
As with the plan that Severus had put in play, it had all been planned out far in advance. If she was seeing much of Sirius now, it was because she was teaching occlumency, on Tuesdays and Thursdays and the day after every meeting.

He was in his own room, expanded into two - who exactly were the Order going to report him to? If they ever even looked. So he had a sitting room and study into which she could be welcomed. She could, would and did go out to get him books and souvenirs from France and similar items. Now that he was past the stage of severe headache, they could sit at a small gilt and glass coffee table and enjoy fresh eclairs and soothing tea.

"Your thoughts are still roiling," she told him. "Not that I can _see_ them, but it's symptomatic. You can't get hold of the right ones to push forward because they're muddled. One reason that you can't beat Severus for pure anger, in fact. He always has his grudges neatly lined up and ready to stew over on demand."

Sirius sighed. "I am trying," he said. "I don't suppose you know how Harry's doing?" Obviously the stone wall wasn't just a face he presented to Bilia.

She shook her head. "Only in Remedial Potions," she said. "It's difficult, at his age, to separate that part of him that knows it's all an act from that part that very much dislikes what Severus is doing, so instead he treats me as a stranger. I am allowed to teach about ingredients and techniques, but not ever let into his head. I know rather less than I did in January."

"What about Umbridge?"

"Only what makes the Daily Prophet. I'm sure she is all that is vile, but I skulk in my husband's laboratories doing scutwork. She's never even laid eyes on me."

"And what about this summer?"

Bilia checked the door.

"Only me and you and Kreacher in the house."

"And the portrait of Phineas Nigellus."

"Replacing my own dear mother, reporting who comes and goes," said Sirius. "Moody watching from afar before he comes in, no doubt." He looked bitter, and swallowed a mouthful of tea.

"Don't let the Order drive you to drink, will you?" said Bilia. "I did notice, and I know you did, that there was no role for you in any arrangement surrounding your godson. Has no one given any reason?"

He shook his head. "I'm throwing a party tomorrow night,' he said. 'I won't ask. I'll just see who brings it up."

"I'd better not be at this one," said Bilia. "I'm reluctant, anyway, to be not at home in case Severus needs me suddenly. I mean, just now he knows where I am and _here_ is safe. No watching Death Eater eyes. Well... his." She shared the joke with her good, trapped friend in a glance.

"How much _does_ he keep you out of things?" Sirius wondered.

"This new task?" she said, and got a nod. "It matters to him. Not for the Dark Lord's sake, but because he'll be no use whatsoever if he fails. I believe he spoke the exact truth at the meeting. I'm not to know, but that is Dumbledore's orders, not the Dark Lord's. Not that he's _told_ me that, but he acts differently depending on _why_ he's hiding something, do you see? To protect me, or because he's been ordered to keep silent. It will come up at the next meeting, or it won't. I'll be there unless I'm specifically excluded."

"If Snape's there, you have to be, to stop him being snotty," said Sirius at once. "That much is a given."

"So he really isn't very much called upon then," said Bilia with a smile. "Well, not to the house. I'm not seeing as much of him as I would like, although he isn't often having to plunge into a hot bath and scrub himself entirely, so he's not wallowing in nastiness. He's... very good about keeping his temper out of the family home."

"You'd give him what-for if he didn't," Sirius joked. The eclairs were gone and, now Bilia looked, Sirius did seem to be putting on weight.

She smiled at the joke. "I'm no doormat or potions victim," she said cheerfully. "Did you get anywhere with the other Black properties?"

"Seven," said Sirius. "Including this one, and three house-elves, sharing the load with Kreacher. Harry's got Dobby."

"Oh good," she said. "I was wondering whether he'd get the hint. So it's merely a matter, then, of setting up an internal, illegal floo-network and making sure Bellatrix and Narcissa can't take advantage of any of the buildings. No one without the secret can get in unless dragged. _That_ one is something I can help with. My magic... isn't Hogwarts-taught as you well know. Sorting out several houses can only help keep you occupied, while the Order waves its secrets in your face."

"I'm going to visit Harry," Sirius decided. "It's obvious they won't let me even see him otherwise."

"I'm sure he can find lots of activities to go along to, to keep himself fit," said Bilia. "Once he finds a few he likes, I'm sure he can happen to meet a muggle there of about his own age."

Sirius grinned. "Easily done," he said. "Thanks to you."

"Severus has stopped worrying that you'll do something to give me a disgust of you," said Bilia, pleased with life. "He _was_ concerned you might try to seduce me as an insult to him. Not that I would _let_ you, mind you."

"One slap was enough," said Sirius, rubbing his face.

"On the other hand, if Moody accuses you of trying to do just that, act as if it's a joke with a grain of truth to it," said Bilia. !He can see us up here, if he chooses."

"I haven't forgotten. When did they become the enemy?"

Bilia didn't think they were, so much as concerned that he would spoil thngs by crashing around trying to kill Death Eaters and ruining whatever the Great Grand Plan was. It was too good a lead to discard, so, after this pause to react and think, she chose her words carefully. "That is a very good question that only you can answer, but if you look back, you might find that the signs were all there at some particular time. It's possible you'll have bad dreams that give you a hint, in fact."

Sirius was struck by that. 

"Hide whatever that thought is and send something harmless..." said Bilia, seeking an immediate diversion from her own words. She tried to find whatever dream he'd had that was suddenly so meaningful, and put some good effort into it too. "Ducks?"

"Finally. Yes," said Sirius. "It's not easy."

"No, I imagine it isn't," said Bilia. "So, now we know how quickly a very dedicated wizard can get to this point, and we know that most likely, only you and Harry have picked up this training since the war began. No one else has had the time. Nothing is stopping any one of them being captured and having their minds ravaged."

"But if I'm caught I won't give anything away."

"Severus was unfortunately very definite on what would be likely to happen. All you're really buying is time," said Bilia. "You won't give anything away at once. You _can't_ give away Order Headquarters. Nor, sadly, fail to be here whenever they stop by, but... well, it's stopping Moody catching you that's the thing, and he's retired now."

"We know when he's on shift."

"Oh, good point. If he's guarding Harry, he isn't here, and you can go out, just not to see Harry. Well, except for those times when he _is_ guarding Harry and it's a good time to visit under polyjuice. So, any shift when Moody is on guard is a chance to be either mending and cleaning other houses, or seeing your own godsson."

"And otherwise, I'm here in case he happens to pop by."

"Indeed. He's the only one who can't be fooled by your being on the loo or asleep," said Bilia. "Well... possibly Dumbledore, but he turns up always in the evening or at night."

Sirius nodded. "Never during the day when he's supposed to be around the school."

"No. Not that I can or do keep tabs upon his movements," Bilia agreed. "Well, then, you know how to let me know when is convenient to visit, and you can be sulking because I won't share what Severus is up to."  
Sirius grinned. "What's Snape up to?"

"That is _none_ of your business, Mr Black, so do not ask," said Bilia, affronted.

They laughed and then she left.

* * *

The gate closed in Bilia's face and Augusta Longbottom stalked back to her four-story home, past well-kept, rather severe-looking shrubs. A meeting just long enough for a cup of tea and a severe set-down about Bilia's lack of school career. "Then what use are you?" she'd said. "None at all, using newspaper headlines to sneak your way into some scam."

"My husband—"

"Was a Death Eater and a nasty piece of work that should have been drowned at birth." A sour look up and down. "If he even knows you exist."

A miss for Felicity Bright, but enough had gone as it should to be worth the Snapes seeking her counsel. Severus was intrigued, Bilia frustrated at Felicity's limitations, so he could have the managing of her. That didn't mean Bilia would take Severus for granted.

She went home to make sure he would be comfortable on this suddenly very busy week.

* * *

The next day, Bilia cuddled with her unprepossessing husband in the marital bed, which this morning only smelled mildly of sex. Lovemaking was, these days, a long, slow, drawn out affair, culminating in a quick and relatively unexciting bang after days of foreplay; unless something new or exciting happened to get them both into the mood all at once, such as some very clever planning or a victory.

Now, today, Severus was taking comfort from being married, from having a wife who loved him as she did no other, except herself. He'd made a token effort, driving neither to orgasm, but it meant they were close, were intimate, were husband and wife. Now he was side by side with her, having his hair smoothed over, while they both stared little glass boxes of beetles set along the mantlepiece opposite the bed, either side of an empty vivarium. The fireplace itself was currently entirely useless.

"Potter's essay on beetle eyes was very nearly coherent," Severus told her after a while.

"I'm doing my very best to make sure that he gets into your N.E.W.T.s level class upon his own merits."

"I'll be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Assuming we both live. It's the one chance I'll ever have to give him any chance at all."

She kissed his head. "Very well. All that scheming to end up in the same place anyway."

"Far better equipped. I'll let you guess what the plan is about the bauble."

"Lure Potter to an ambush?"

"Potter cannot be lured. I did my job too well," said Severus, smirking and shoving himself up into a sit to claim a kiss.

Bilia settled back down, resting upon his chest, trailing her fingers over it, feeling wiry hair under her fingerpads. "Not the plan your employer had in mind then, letting Potter and his little idiot friends lure the Dark Lord before an assembled company into plain sight."

"You wouldn't know to see him," Severus admitted. "He seems delighted that our course is at an end and that little Piggy has done well. That I have done well. If revealing the Dark Lord was the plan, I honestly cannot tell. We know what the Dark Lord thought."

"He thinks he can kill you before I can stop him," Bilia said. "I mean, he can, but we both know where we'd end up. Going back is... mildly frustrating, but we can avoid certain mistakes, gather more knowledge. You'll be that much stronger."

"I'd rather see this one through," said Severus, his voice a low, comfortable rumble against Bilia's left ear, punctuated by a slow, steady heartbeat. "Telling him I must succeed or become useless as a spy has not stopped Albus trying to find a way around it. Unfortunately, knowing what I have been told, the plan the Dark Lord will have to use is simple and immediately obvious, and he knows that. The Dark Lord can see to it himself. I need not be involved, nor know when, and if there is forwarning given to the Order, then I would be blamed."

"So now he needs to guard it all the more diligently."

"And I need to go along, disguised just as the Dark Lord is, so I might be killed at once if anything goes wrong, and to claim my place at his right hand if all goes well. Nor am I likely to be given much warning. I will know only when I have delivered polyjuice."

"Which could potentially delay things for a month. We could get some picnics in, before we have to go back to January. You can get that month?"

"A simple concession. So, we shall begin a special batch today, and I shall go and see him this evening." He watched the beetles, beginning to lose himself in his own thoughts.

"Let's go and get it started, so we can enjoy the rest of the day," said Bilia. "We'll see to the vivarium first. First take your beetles..."

Severus smiled. "Keep them from eating one another... meal worms excepted..."

"On a bed of dragon dung and magical, if dead or rotting leaves and wood..."

"Test and evaluate the results."

"It's a hobby," said Bilia. "We have time."

The completed vivarium was, to ordinary eyes, revolting. It was certainly very alive, if mainly brown. Any number of different species had been forced to make a home together. Each had their own food. There was definitely a certain odour when the heavy, unbreakable glass lid was lifted. Tiny trapdoors in a mesh roof let tools inside, miniature items on long sticks, objected to by beetles occasionally screeching, or exploding, or hissing loudly, or spurting flame. Then the lid was put back, and the vivarium was once again entirely silent. Those screeching beetles could be very loud.  
Like a miniature Noah's ark, there were at least a male and a female of every kind.

Pets were soothing. Even unusual ones. Neither could imagine Severus ever curling up with a cat, or becoming fond of any particular owl.

* * *

One month, taking them into the summer and past the exams, giving them time to get their affairs in order. 

One last summer picnic, for uncertain values of summer, but it wasn't raining and they weren't running around gathering food or seeing to their dark and orderly home.

Champagne and sandwiches. Severus showing his nerves in long silences, soothed out of anger, not even needing the Feel-Better Fizz as an aide to meditation. He looked into a flat, white horizon at a distant grove atop a rounded hill, a stand of trees that hid in its secret heart a modern muggle construction rather than any pagan space. In the other direction at grey ocean. Down at the chalky turf and back at Bilia.

"You've stopped speaking of Black," he said, sharing the worry that had been eating at him.

Bilia considered things. "I'm fairly sure he's busy sneaking around outside the house," she said. "That and when he reassures me, I can only think how much you'd enjoy to see him cut down, and that he needs to live. Naturally I tell him he needs to live. We've bored one another on the subject, and reached an impasse, and his thoughts are focussed on his godson as they _should_ be. That's really what is bothering you?"

"No," Severus admitted. His long fingers clenched around his wand and relaxed again. "How sure are you that we will live?"

"You can't... what did she say? Death omens?"

"Chaos. Yes, death or risk of death, enemies on every side, decisions made in the heat of the moment. Sacrifice, there will be some sort of sacrifice that needs to be made."

"I'm certain that if you die, we'll have a nice cup of tea and clean your rat-hole of a home and judge our own mistakes harshly and try all over again," Bilia said, reaching for his wanded hand, and making him open and spread his fingers so she could rub his palm and relax his hand. "I won't be the sacrifice, love, and if I was... it would be a frustration, not the end of everything."

He gave a stiff nod of his head, and went back to pinning unwanted thoughts onto the horizon, then rose to his feet less than a minute later, looking down at the greaseproof paper they'd both fired large metal nails into, to keep them from flapping and because the spell was useful to have to hand. The scattering of crumbs, the sliced pork pie, the soggy remnants of what had been a bright chopped salad in a bowl shaped like lettuce leaves and made of glass. 

Bilia cleaned up, stacking everything they wanted to keep back in the basket and vanishing the rest. "Putting your beetles in order will take up the rest of the afternoon," she suggested. "Otherwise, love, you'll brood yourself into a temper, and dear Bella does not want you any less dead, does she?"

"She does not," Severus agreed, and went home without her.

Bilia removed all possible trace, and stood a while, eyes closed, breathing deeply, hearing only distant traffic and relaxed birdsong. The future was sitting on them like a weight. Severus wouldn't thank her at all for a pretense of cheerfulness, but she could at least avoid sending him off fresh from some row he'd manufactured. She, herself, was going to have to make sure there was cooked food and a clean bed and bandages and a covering for the sitting-room floor just in case, and that would be better than pacing and waiting and wanting to kill people she wasn't allowed to go anywhere near. The faintest doubt was ready, as always, to uncurl in her mind. What if she was wrong and this current life was all they had? 

"Brooding won't make it any nicer," she said, and left as soon as she was absolutely sure she could not be goaded by any fractious mood. 

It was her husband's battle to fight, and she could only get him ready, let him go, and wait for the results. Bilia loved him, and that was going to have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've written to a last chapter that I am polishing, several chapters hence, assuming I don't end up changing it entirely, but it feels right to lead the story to the ending that I have. That said, chapters get overhauled and often end up somewhat changed before posting and it's possible I'll find something I forgot I'd written in that changes the plot entirely somehow. 
> 
> Comment moderation is purely for spam and outright trolls. I won't delete for someone simply not liking something, although probably it won't change the direction the story goes in, or make either of them any nicer about the characters they despise. 
> 
> I wasn't sure anyone could ever like this vile, self-centred little pair, or Bilia's endless domesticity and the way all the action is constantly in the background while the main characters just sit and drink tea for chapter after chapter, so getting actual positive comments has been an amazing and wonderful surprise. My thanks to each and every one of you, you really brightened my day every time.


	12. Agony and Snotty Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilia plays hostess to Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Black, while Severus licks his wounds. Sirius Black is climbing the walls as well.

Bilia, dressed entirely in a sober and sombre black, was upon the doorstep of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which had a golden doorknocker and a bright red door.

Sirius let her in and took in her plain black clothing and her black hat and plain basket. He stepped back to let her into the hall, which was pale blue with the same silver-grey carpet as the rest of the house, decorated with ormulu tables and alabaster lamps, and one single portrait in an ugly dark frame.

"I'm sorry," Bilia said with a brave smile. She took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Severus is sleeping, so I was able to come."

"He's alive?" Sirius said, surprised. 

Bilia glanced at the peering, sneering features of Phineas Nigellus Black and looked properly at Sirius. "If he dies, I shall quite simply go wherever he is going," she told him simply. "I brought the elderflower wine and the goblet, it's finished and you can see if you want the set after all."

"Now?" Sirius said, flummoxed.

"Well, they're done," Bilia said with a sniff. "Life doesn't stop just because dreadful things are going on." She dried her eyes. "If you like the goblet, the rest will be all the same."

"I... er... Tea?"

"Yes, please, that would be lovely."

"Come on into the dining room then, the table's clear. Kreacher!" 

Bilia handed off her outer wear, revealing a plain dark brown dress that didn't show blood, and stared impatiently until Sirius led the way, and let her set out her wares on a table she examined before she put things down on the cloth Kreacher set with a decisive snap.

Sirius took the bottles and examined the goblet while Kreacher hurried to get tea things set before them.

"Keep that for now," she told him of the cup. "You couldn't possibly be in the mood to decide. It just gets it out of my work-space. It's not a very large house, you see." Not that anyone ever saw, or would ever be allowed to know, and they had fewer rooms than Sirius, so technically it wasn't actually a lie. Pathetically, she wiped her eyes again and gave him a wan, wet little smile.

"You could just..." Sirius waved a hand up, presumably indicating expanded space.

"After the war, Severus will need to answer to aurors who may be like Mr Moody," she told him. "They won't be in a mood to be forgiving. I hate to press, Sirius, but we really do need the cash. Especially now."

"How much did I say?"

"You offered one galleon the bottle if you liked the first bottle."

Sirius summoned glasses from the dresser and cracked it open, watching it bubble, then tasted it. "It's good," he said.

"Oh good. A dozen and the sample you just had," she said, relieved. "That _will_ pay for ointment and bandages."

"How is he?" Sirius asked.

Bilia wiped her eyes. "How nice of you to ask," she said. "Still very bloody, probably scarred, we'll know more... in time. I'll pop by if there's a change, unless he dies of course."

"How would we know?"

"I've no idea, but Dumbledore's bound to, isn't he?" said Bilia. She sipped at her tea and put it down. "I do need to go back," she said. "Sorry to be so terribly mercenary, Sirius, but..."

"Kreacher! Don't talk, just get my purse." He dug out handfuls of galleons and set them in stacks, giving them only a cursory look over and poured them into her purse. "Here. Keep the change."

She took them with the gratitude proper to a dependent. "Thank you. I'll see you when there's news."

She went back, with her basket, and popped home, to where her husband lay on an improvised daybed, the oxblood sofa shrunk and propped up against a wall. 

Severus looked severely ill. Bilia kissed his forehead, before she went and got them both tea and put on an apron. Then she came back and washed all of him that could be washed, before she went to a walk-in cupboard, pulled out potions and fed them to him, taking notes.

There was a floo-call. Bilia ignored it. She was, by habit, not at home to visitors.

A phoenix made entirely of light and joy came by. "Severus. Please do come to the infirmary."

Severus breathed and did not reply, but he did groan later, as Bilia used her mouth to take his mind off the pain. There was nothing at all wrong with his groin, and when he clutched at her hair, it wasn't to stop her doing as she did.

Once he'd managed to keep down some gruel, Bilia went out shopping for, as she'd said, ointment and bandages, and silk. 

She came back to find Moody at the door, so she went in the back way, and got on with her job, telling Severus all that she was doing, consulting many books from his library.

By the next morning, he was sitting up on an improvised chaise-longue, listening to the radio, while a book sat on a lectern, mostly ignored.

Bilia knitted, until it was time to give him a moss-green potion, which made him feel very sick. A pale orange stomach-soother.

She went back to Grimmauld Place.

"Mrs Snape!" said Sirius. "Dumbledore's going mad looking for you."

"He knows very well where I am," Bilia snapped. She smiled. "I do apologise. I just came to tell you he's been able to sit up and keep down food."

"Do you want to come in?"

"No. How is everyone else? In case he becomes well enough to ask."

"Alive, tell him. Everyone's alive."

"That's very good news. I have to go back to him," she told Sirius.

He hugged her and let her go, then pressed a purse into her hand. Not where the portrait could see, she noted, though that could be sheer accident. "In case there's anything you need."

"Thank you," she said simply.

The next day, Severus was able to walk about with the aid of a stick, wearing black trousers and a soft white shirt, but nothing else, not even socks. The livid trace of a curse-scar adorned his neck, went into his collar, and zig-zagged over his ribs and abdomen and down onto one thigh. Scabby looking burns stood on the top of one bare foot.

"How many of those idiots did the Death Eaters kill?" he asked, the first conversation they'd had since he'd collapsed onto the laid-out sofa bed.

"Nary a one."

"I don't suppose there has been any expression of gratitude."

"Team Black is funding us," said Bilia. "I haven't seen the others. Until you're _actually_ better, not just mobile and gritting your teeth, I'm staying with you."

"When can I have a bath?"

"When I say so, love, and not before," she told him in a softer voice. "As soon as it's possible. I'd like us to go to our Green healer."

"Do you really think it will help?"

"It can't hurt."

Severus gave a somewhat sour look, and offered out an arm. He and came back with dressings on and some new potions. He was severely drained and sleeping as soon as he got in.

The day after, he ate gruel and a mouthful of scrambled eggs, and drank a little tea and a lot of potion. 

They sorted out the game. No telling, yet, how all the counters had fallen.

"The Dark Lord had the prophecy right there in his hand, so I should be elevated to his right hand," said Severus. "As soon as I am fit and well, I'll go and see."

"That could take the rest of the summer," Bilia warned him. "That curse of Dolohov's is no joke. That's what you get for volunteering to let him hit you and making a sacrifice of yourself. Why did you?"

"Saving Parchment-Small," said Severus. "With Green and Black as an audience. Not to mention assorted blood-reds."

"What of the other side?"

"Saving a student does not get in the way of the Dark Lord's plans," said Severus. "I shan't be answering to them."

* * *

Within the week, Narcissa Malfoy came to visit, along with Bellatrix Lestrange. They found Severus sitting up, reading, after Bilia let them in.

"Narcissa," Severus said, putting his book down. "And Bella. You were not seen? I can only slaughter so many muggle witnesses before it draws attention."

Bellatrix was almost glorious in her dissolution. Her face was somehow still beautiful, entirely arrogant, but her hair was actually filthy with clotted mats as a diregarded accent held out of the way with black spider pins, and she stank of brimstone and dark alleys and forgotten meat. "No one saw me, Snape. Who's the squib?"

Severus showed no sign, at all, of anything amiss. "My wife, and I assure you she is merely unregistered." Clearly, Narcissa was used to her sister, enough so that when she made her way in, there was a faint trace of lilies. Birdsong by a battleground.

"I'll go and get tea," said Bilia, taking her husband's lead. "Biscuits?"

"Yes," said Severus. "Do take a seat both of you." He waved an arm, rather than getting up.

Bellatrix came after Bilia, but the kitchen door slammed firmly shut in her face.

"Manners, Bella," Severus said, loud enough to be audible.

Bilia came back some minutes later with a tea tray to find Bellatrix narrow-eyed at whatever he had said to her. "This isn't over, Snape," Bellatrix said. "The Dark Lord trusts me more than he does you."

"Oh please _do_ go running to the Dark Lord," said Severus. "Thank you, my dear, that looks lovely."

"How do you take your tea, Mrs Malfoy?" Bilia asked politely, as though to a welcome and respected guest. In every movement, in her expression, she was acting the hostess.

Bellatrix flopped down on Bilia's favourite chair, in a bad mood. "I'm not talking while she's here," she said rudely.

"And very glad I am to hear it," said Bilia. "The less I know, the better, I should think. Fresh-baked, Mrs Malfoy," and she took some lemon butter thins and ate one, crunching it up.

"Thank you, Mrs Snape," said Narcissa, taking some herself.

"Are we really going to sit here playing house?" asked Bellatrix.

"Yes, we are," said Severus. "If I have to remind you of your manners again, I shall have to ask you to leave. Narcissa, how is Draco?"

"Very well, thank you. I don't suppose you can come by?"

"Probably only on business," said Snape. "Speaking of which, I was wondering whether my wife and I could come gathering on your lands." He dipped a biscuit and ate it.

"Yes, of course. Anything in particular?"

"Potion ingredients for potion useful to the Dark Lord," said Severus, once he'd swallowed a dark chocolate biscuit. "I'm sure you can show me around the grounds. Bilia is a more-than-capable assistant, my right hand, as I am now the Dark Lord's right hand."

"You didn't give him the prophecy!" Bellatrix spat.

"I very much did," Severus said. "Then I had to all but cripple myself dealing with Dolohov's tantrum, and save your cousin's worthless hide."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because it would greatly suit the Headmaster's plans to have him dead," said Severus. "I do not know why, but I can see a game when it is being set up. Once the war is over, I hope very much I will be allowed to torture your cousin to death, very slowly, but while the Headmaster does not want him alive, I shall do my best to keep him breathing."

"What about the mudblood brat?"

"Kill her another time, with my blessing, because nothing would please me more than to get her busybody self out of my N.E.W.T.s lessons, but merely crippling her for a summer will only make Potter feel sorry for her, and keep her over-interfering mind either in the school or around him. I want her safely back home with her muggle parents, out of everyone's way."

"Whose side are you really on, Severus?"

"The Dark Lord's, on the right, very close to him," Severus said, pleased. "I'm rather looking forward to going to see him, as soon as I'm presentable and fit for service." His smile was, well, deeply unpleasant but relaxed to anyone who knew him, and so was the way he drank his tea.

"He'll punish you for your failure and I'll wa-atch," Bellatrix said in her childish sing-song voice, getting up and leaning over him. Her wand was pointed safely away, even as she stalked round, on a path back towards her seat. Not so insane as all that then.

"No, for failure he would have seen me very slowly killed," said Severus, visibly enjoying the little scene he was in. "He was very, very clear on that point."

Bellatrix paused on her way back and turned towards him, honestly confused.

"I had a will made up and everything," he said. "All to Draco."

"What of your wife?" Bellatrix asked, leaning over him. "The unregistered witch." Hissed words, full of promise of later blackmail.

"I'll go where Severus is going, when he does," said Bilia comfortably. "More or less the same instant. He wasn't the most _trusting_ of wizards when we married, but we've got along so very comfortably since."

"However did you both meet?" Narcissa wanted to know. Her face was somewhat taut, but she had company manners baked in over goodness knows what childhood and long habit.

"Bilia stumbled into my life and happened to be somewhat useful," said Severus. "Aberforth Dumbledore and Argus Filch were the witnesses."

"Aberforth _Dumbledore_?" said Bellatrix, sitting up.

"His estranged brother," said Severus comfortably. "Not someone the Headmaster wants me to be at all close to. Or anyone." He put his cup down. "I tire. Narcissa, my dear, I'm very much afraid that as the Dark Lord's right hand man I shall have to share all I was told, but I shall do what I can to mitigate the damage, and of course I can't see him for some weeks yet." He closed his eyes. "I cannot help Draco."

"I'll see you to the door," said Bilia, standing up. "No, dear, we don't attack our colleagues in their own homes, it isn't nice." She held a ball of magic in her hand. "Or their spouses," she added, giving it a twist and sending it back into Bellatrix.

"What did you do?"

"Nullified you," said Bilia. "I'd be silly to leave you as a threat to either of us, wouldn't I? Do pass on our regards when you go running to tell tales. Mrs Malfoy, it's been an absolute pleasure. I do hope whatever damage there is, is not too harsh. Now, if you'll excuse us, I need to see to his potions."

Bellatrix stalked out, literally unable to stay within the house, and Narcissa watched her uncertainly, then covered her hair again with her hood.   
"Goodbye Severus," she said. "Goodbye Mrs Snape."

"Now, wasn't she so much nicer than any of the Order?" said Bilia when she came back. "Not Bellatrix, she was being a snot. She has every intention of going straight to his side." She fetched potions from a locked cabinet and handed them over.

"That is no surprise," said Severus, once he'd downed them. "If you've nothing urgent to do, you might distract me with your mouth."

"Close your eyes and think of England," Bilia said, opening his trousers.

* * *

No report to Dumbledore, not yet, and no news at all on how Severus currently stood with either side. If Severus didn't give, he didn't get, that was now made plain, but he wasn't being summoned to the Dark Lord's side. 

In the safe haven of their dining room, they pondered over the board, and plans that couldn't be fleshed out.

"Silver-purple," Severus said, in that tone that meant he wanted something difficult. He wanted advice, which was going to mean a difficult and annoying trek, and no owl turning up to conveniently offer a time. 

Bilia sighed and shook her head. "We know roughly what's coming. You lived, and not a great deal changed other than Black living, and he isn't doing much good except..."

"Except what?"

"He can hold parties, he talks to people. I'll find out where his alliances are and how much he's able to do," Bilia said. "You're not about to die, so he can know."

"Tell him you'll tell him and Piggy everything as soon as it's safe," said Severus. 

"Give him a reason to want to keep us on his side. I will. Come to bed, love, you look like a streak of piss and twice as sour."

He got up, and did his best to stalk to bed, but the effort was spoiled by his running out of energy halfway up the stairs. They didn't argue, but only by long habit.

* * *

Sirius had a newspaper in his hand the next time he answered the door. They went in and straight up to his private sitting room, where a tea-set was ready, the clink and rattle she'd heard before he quietly opened his closed door. He closed it again after her.

"Is something up?" Bilia asked.

"That's what I was going to ask you," he said, showing the newspaper.

Bilia read the news. "He wasn't there, and isn't doing anything in particular. How is Harry?"

Sirius shook his head. "Not telling me anything," he said. "I managed to get to see him, but it's difficult."

"At least you're able to talk," she pointed out. "I mean, he isn't cut off with no news at all."

Sirius threw the newspaper aside, causing a black-and-white auror to stumble and fall into the side of the frame, before Kreacher snapped the paper up and tidied it away from somewhere out of sight and reach. "Do you know where Voldemort is?" he asked.

"Malfoy Manor, and if there was a quiet way in that didn't bring immediate notice and ruin, Severus would have mentioned it. And sometimes he's somewhere else, in any case. Why haven't you approached Scrimgeour?"

"It wouldn't do any good," Sirius said, getting up and pacing. He still hadn't offered any tea, and at some pointed looks he finally did, bending over the table to pour by hand. "Scrimgeour's useless, worse than Fudge, Kingsley says."

"How disappointing. Sirius... I don't quite see how he _won't_ win unless you have some crumb of hope to offer."

"Dumbledore says it's all in hand," Sirius said carelessly, adding milk and sugar. "How's your husband?"

"Alive," Bilia said, taking the tea. "Thank you. He's upright and dressed but not fit enough to survive going back into service. Actually, he's somewhat crabby and bad-tempered."

Sirius barked a laugh, and looked over at the window, back at her, full of nervous energy that didn't bode well. "Bellatrix fired stunners at me," he told Bilia.

Bilia showed her surprise. "I'll pass that on," she said. "No one is talking to me, Sirius, they just want his report. He told me that when it's safe I'm to take you and Harry aside and tell you all we know, just not now."

"Why not now?" Sirius asked, turning on her. "What's he up to?"

"Healing. Fretting. Cut off from people, which I hope very much _you_ are not."

Sirius shook his head. "Too soon for a party, do you think?" he asked.

"Not at all, not now we know everyone is going to live, although I'll celebrate only once I know Severus is recovered completely and won't have any lasting effects," Bilia said. "We need to enjoy the good news while it lasts. I'll gather enough flowers for you to say I gathered the flowers," she said with an evil smile.

He grinned back and sat down at last. "Fine. Sell me more wine if you like, and two bottles of that fizz. You said he'd made up gallons."

"Enough to see us through considerable hardship, yes," Bilia agreed. "You can't get Harry here?"

"Not yet. Soon." He stood up again, moved around. "Very soon. Don't tell anyone."

"I don't see them to tell them," Bilia smiled, being an oasis of calm. Still no portraits, she noted, and the little biscuits she liked were there, and she hadn't even seen them arrive. "Wonderful. So, have you managed at least to make some friends that won't go running to Albus?"

Sirius looked haunted for a moment, then brightened. "That's what the party is for," he said.

"Let's sort out about the flowers in case anyone asks," Bilia said. "I hope you have a very lovely time."

It wasn't a hopeful report to hand back, and the newspaper was reporting attack after attack and the arrest of one single bus-conductor. Severus was being a pill, so she cheered him up over tearing every single person they knew apart and discussing their shortcomings, and that night he managed to sleep the entire night through, and even get up in the morning to see to his beetles.


	13. It's When Things Stay The Same That They Start to Look Suspicious.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape has more idea of what is coming than anybody else, and can start pushing his own agenda. This makes several people very unhappy. Sirius is going to get a life if he knows what's good for him. Bilia is apparently concerned only with domestic detail and a lot of chatty gossip.

"Well, now we know," said Bilia, over tea. They had eaten a good dinner over a bottle-green tablecloth on their dining room table, served on a full silver service, polished with the great care given to real treasures and currently set in a locked dark brown cabinet, but they still had a cake stand out. Bilia looked back from that to Severus, to see if he was following. "The affair with the ring is entirely deliberate."

She admired her husband even more than she had the tea service. After all these weeks, Severus was very fit and very well, upright, just a little over-fed. He was going to need all his reserves, and he hadn't had much chance for exercise until just recently.

His expression was set in a sneer. "Lending credence to your idea that his death is a mere inconvenience. How does he get a body?"

"I'm not sure he needs one," she said, putting gooseberry jam onto a small cake baked with not quite enough sugar. "He does nearly all his work by getting idiots to run around doing as they're told. Perhaps he plans to possess Kingsley Shacklebolt, who knows?"

"Either way, he did not risk my having to save his life until I was available to save it," said Severus. "Pity."

"Chaos though, and no foresight if he had suddenly died."

"The teaching schedule is already set. There wouldn't be time otherwise." He closed off, glowering at the cabinet, thinking to himself, and she left him to it.

"Well, now we need to sort out some five score pots of jam," Bilia told him after they'd both eaten and he'd brooded for long enough. "Will you need me in Hogwarts?"

"Very much so." His tone, his look were both fond and regretful.

Bilia was very fond in return. "I'll go alone with your plans, love. Was the Dark Lord pleased to receive the full prophecy after all?"

"Very. He was full of praise for me," said Severus, pleased with himself, stirring sugar into his last cup of tea. "Between that and being genuinely unavailable to the Headmaster all summer, I should be able to run the school as I see fit, when the time eventually comes. I have, in fact, requested it. Turning up with the news that Dumbledore shall definitely be dead within the year did not hurt matters. Draco now has to answer to me if he cannot get to the Dark Lord's side." His sneer was wonderfully ugly and malicious.

"That will help matters," Bilia said, enjoying the look of him. "Well, you'll be happier, won't you?"

"Now that he isn't going to be running about trying to poison the Headmaster, yes. He'll still be loosing Death Eaters into the school."

"Well, there's no reason we can't both be incredibly lucky, that day," said Bilia. "With the Elder Wand in play, what do you think should be the plan for it? He can't kill you to get it now."

"Give it to the Piggy," said Severus promptly. 

"There we are then. An aim for the potion to fasten onto. I'll clean up and we'll check the board and then see about all this jam, how about that?"

"I'll need fluxweed at the next full moon and some bloodroot when it's ready."

"We'd better make plans then. No point getting this far then dying of something stupid. I love you," Bilia said, admiring her ugly husband quite openly.

"I love you too," said Severus to his unprepossessing wife, whose features had only become more sour through weeks of worry.

Bilia smiled, please, and it did not improve her looks any appreciable amount. Not with those crooked bottom teeth. She got up, and began clearing, and Severus joined her. Now and then they kissed affectionately as they went about their work.

* * *

It was hammering down with rain, breaking the back of a long run of hot, muggy weather. Water was hitting so hard that there was a second layer of rain a few inches up, from it bouncing off the pavement and coming back down. Detritus was being washed into the gutter, and with a gesture, Bilia cleared a drain that was blocked and pooling city-grey water up towards a house she couldn't, as yet, see. 

This still left mountains of literal muggle filth, but it did stop her getting the leather uppers of her nice new shoes wet. A walk around the block and once she was back and could make her way easily to the door, after a pause to mentally discover a beacon of normality and cheer set like the one good tooth in a rotting mouth.

She had a basket arranged with summer flowers at the top, and was wearing a hat around which twined artificial blackberries and bindweed, while various finches peered out. After weeks of near-mourning, she was bringing bright colour to the house.

Sirius opened the door, having expected her. "Mrs Snape!" he said, looking at her. "He's better, then?" He was in his usual brown velvet with the pocket watch chain.

"He is," she smiled. "I hate to be a bother, Sirius, but it's raining quite hard." 

"Come in then."

She came in and siphoned water that had collected in various dips and folds of her entirely waterproof clothes, sending a jet out and down the steps. "Luckily, the step is invisible," she said. "I found two people hanging about looking at the place, with magic, and I was wondering, Sirius, why are we leaving them to be so comfortable? Is that the Marauder way?"

Sirius didn't open the door to peer out, he just leaned against it, his tone casual, but he was interested. "Where are they?"

"I'll teach you the spells to discover for yourself, from quite some distance," she told him, lifting her face and allowing him to kiss each cheek. She handed off her cloak to Kreacher, who was all but guarding the way with an expectant hand, and the basket too, and finally unpinned and handed over the hat, following up to the dining room, and pointing out cobwebs and dust along the hall ceiling. "I appreciate your not caring, Sirius, but with your being locked in, it takes a toll, and one of the nice things about this house is its agreeable smell, which dust would blunt."

The lack of interest was palpable, his focus all on her basket. "I'll have Kreacher see to it."

Bilia didn't budge. "Have you considered how he is to reach so high, when people come in and out at all hours? The carpets are immaculate and so are the small tables. He's old, Sirius, and struggling just a little. And then looking about the place and cleaning helps give one a sense of it, which helps to keep it secure. If you're used to _looking_ , you'll know as soon as something is off."

Sirius waved his wand and vanished the cobwebs, giving an ironic bow.

Bilia smiled at him. "Severus is elevated over all other Death Eaters," she told him. "Dumbledore will not like the price, but it was that or a dead Severus, which means a dead wife, and he made the decision _this_ time to live. We're not terrifically hopeful we'll make it through the war, since we aren't going to sell out Harry, or attack him in any particular way. So, given that the nasty horrible Dark Lord already has it, I was wondering whether you wanted the full wording of the prophecy?"

Well, that was clearly a surprise, and Sirius wasn't exactly guardian of his thoughts. "He has the prophecy?" 

"Much good may it do him," she smiled. "Severus wouldn't have handed it over if it meant ruin to the cause, Sirius. I know you've been made to think that his having it is absolutely appalling, but it's honestly rather ridiculous. It actually describes things as they currently are. So, do you want it?"

"Go on then." Apparently he believed her. He looked healthy enough, untouched by battle, a stark contrast to the mess Bilia had scraped from the floor at home and poured potions into.

"I'd better settle in then, I think."

Bilia soon sat with tea in a bright dining room made more bright with flowers and a recently rearranged window box. She had out a solid gold chess set, which was to be a birthday present from Harry. A present from her was sitting in bright wrapping. "Belated, but I'm sure Harry will forgive us both," she said. "He was _very_ severely struck. The prophecy, then," and she related it to Sirius, who was pacing the room.

"That's it?" Sirius said, when Bilia was done. He sat down. "What's the power the Dark Lord has not?"

"Well, if you have no clue, I'm sure I don't," said Bilia. "It's _knows_ not, so it isn't as if the Dark Lord can find out either. Where is everyone?"

"Harry's at the Burrow," said Sirius. That explained the lack of cheer and the short answers.

Bilia became all sympathy. "Oh, you poor man," she said. "At least he's not there and mourning you, that's something."

"Do I _have_ to owe Snape my life?"

"He owes James," said Bilia. "We weren't sure you'd ever acknowledge that. Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy are aware. They came to him asking... well, _Narcissa_ was asking for protection for her son, Draco Malfoy, all behind the Dark Lord's back, that's what we weren't telling you, because we thought Harry would be here and want to hear himself.

Sirius winced. "I can talk to him," he said, not quite a growl.

"I wasn't sure you would be able to, Ron is very close and Hermione will probably be there too and digging into everything, so that's very good news, and saves me telling him at school." 

Before he could get too distracted, Bilia continued, always cheerful, no matter what. "Going back to the Malfoys, now Mrs Lestrange is sulking because Severus flat out refused to let her bind him to an Unbreakable Vow, and then went and told the Dark Lord what had happened, which is all very amusing. It's the only piece of Death Eater business I've ever been dragged into, and he was rather cross I _was_ dragged into it. Mrs Lestrange tried to hex him," she added with a hideous smile, looking into the memory. "Then me when I got in the way and that _was_ funny, watching her being marched outside. Mrs Malfoy was polite, and you could _almost_ forget what she has condoned over the years. Anyway, he mentioned saving Mrs Lestrange's cousin's worthless hide, which he would _not_ have done if she hadn't already been fully cognizant. He wasn't crippled saving you, by the way, he was crippled saving Hermione."

"Yes, I saw," he said, pacing again. "I couldn't believe it when I saw it happen." He relived the battle, visible in his vacant stare, little twitches of his hand and another hungry look at the basket, which contained nothing at all. Everything was out on half of the table, her wares for sale, next to the tea and biscuits Kreacher had laid out, Nice biscuits shining with sugar crystals, home made rather than stamped, and a platter of finger sandwiches and a cakestand with tiny little fancy cakes.

Sirius took a breath and managed to fold the war away. Apparently he was interested in all Bilia had to say, so she looked away from the tea things and the flowers and went on.

"He's a good man," she told him, with love in her voice. "He's just caught in a terrible situation because, earlier in his life, he was _not_ a good man. Well, boy, really. I do think being married really helps, where his being a spy really does _not_."

"No, I can see that it wouldn't," Sirius said, with sardonic humour. No actual loathing. He smiled upon her, a repulsively cocksure man, realised what he was looking at and turned off the charm. "He definitely married the right witch."

Bilia wasn't going down that road. "Anyway, he's back fully on his feet and the Dark Lord regards him as the brightest and shiniest of tools to use, which can only help Harry. We plot, endlessly, about how exactly Severus is going to be able to get away with various hypothetical acts. Or where the line is, what he will and will not do. I do wonder that he doesn't go completely mad, actually, given that he has to continue to be vile to those whose side he is on. He can't afford to get into good habits. Now he'll be trying to use his elevated position to gain some breathing room."

"You know, when _you_ say he's a good man, I can almost believe you."

"Hold onto that idea," she said to him, smiling. "It's going to get worse before it gets better, I expect. Now, I do have to pass on thanks, they obviously can't be in writing. He appreciates, very much, my not having to work while he was convalescing, and, for what it's worth, so do I. It was a tremendous weight off our minds. We're also both very grateful for our lovely silk tablecloth and the silver tea service. Very handsome they look too. We use them every day. That was nice of you, Sirius."

"Well, I wasn't using them," Sirius shrugged. "There's loads more where that came from if you want it." The expression he shot at some unseen room upstairs made it clear he would be glad to get rid of it, rather than leaving it behind locked doors as he had.

"Then if it's all right with you, I'll go through things with Kreacher," said Bilia with a smile. "Not _just_ now, it's jam season, and I'd like to go back to their actual worth, if you please, if you're buying some. And the wine, of course, it should turn up about October, and we've some nettle that's turned out sweeter than Severus likes, eleven bottles. One galleon for two bottles as it's not brewed to order. It is still good," she assured him.

"Why not?" he said. "Goodness knows meetings get through enough of the stuff. I'll still give you and Snape the good stuff though. At least he bloody notices."

"I'd noticed that too and didn't like to say. Mr Shacklebolt, he notices too."

"Nettle and blackberry for the rest, then," said Sirius, looking at the basket again. 

"Both will also be very good along with certain puddings," said Bilia. "I'd have Harry and his friends over for a formal meal now and then, it isn't as if you can't host the occasional dinner evening. Once a week, and then have them over to Sunday Lunch too, so that Mrs Weasley can have a rest from cooking. You're still having parties with the other adults?"

"Not since the last one,"

"I'd get back on that then. Was it a disaster?"

Sirius faced the window, saw nothing that bothered him and came back, grabbing a biscuit and ignoring the tea, still not sitting down. "It could have gone better. Tonks is all wrapped up mooning after Moony." Apparently this was hilarious. He crunched down the biscuit.

Bilia shook her head in sympathy for the wolf. "Well, then, she'll probably get him, unless he decides upon someone else. The parties will either help them get together or help him find an excuse to put her off, but the rest you'll have to leave. I know there's an absolutely vile war going on, but that makes it _more_ important to have these small patches of normality to look forward to. Severus and I have been sitting down to proper meals every evening from the point when he was able to, and now he's delighted to be cooking again, so I'm being rather pampered."

"He cooks?" Sirius said, surprised.

"He does his half of the housework, and yes, he does cook. What better way for him to get a meal exactly as he likes it? Now, this first meeting that's coming up, it's bound to be rather awkward because, just as Severus has not once gone to the Dark Lord's side, not until he had to report the visit, so he's been rebuffing all of Dumbledore's people. Well, I did on his behalf, he really was rather dreadfully ill, but then when he could talk, he still did."

Sirius fiddled with a teaspoon. "We don't get why he didn't go to the infirmary." 

"He went to actual healers with a mediwitch working under them. Poppy's all very well and good, but she deals with school accidents and childhood illnesses. It isn't as if he is on the run or being hunted by Death Eaters. Severus has his own people, sworn to silence, who wish Harry well, that Harry's never met and possibly never _will_ meet, but he's been cultivating them in case Harry becomes ill enough that Poppy is not sufficient. There's a lot these days that Severus does that Dumbledore is not aware of until _after_ the fact, things that he _should_ , in theory, be in favour of, such as tidying up this house. Or making sure Hary gets an Outstanding Potions O.W.L."

"He doesn't trust Dumbledore," Sirius realised. He was weighing up this new information, looking her up and down. 

"Not with his wellbeing, no," said Bilia. "That's my fault. I actually do look out for him, and he's seen the difference." She let her gaze fall upon the arrangement of summer flowers, all drought-tolerant and very brightly coloured. "Those all need to be allowed to dry out between watering," she told him. "But then they're so brightly cheerful, aren't they?"

Sirius took the hint and switched his attention, and they did seem to brighten his thoughts. "They definitely are," he said with approval. "What are they?"

"Those big ones are dahlias, and the small slightly trumpety ones in between are penstemons, and the red spikes with the dark leaves is all salvia, which also looks good in a rather Death-Eatery arrangement I'm trying to persuade Severus to let me put upon his windowsill at work."

Confusion. His face an open book. "He has a windowsill? Down in the dungeons?"

Bilia let herself be confused in turn rather than laughing in his face. "He _will_ have a windowsill, upstairs... because of his new job? Oh, that _ridiculous_ man, he hasn't told you? I don't mean Severus, how could he have done so? Dumbledore has _insisted_ that Severus take up the Defence Against the Dark Arts position so he can install Horace Slughorn. As soon as it was clear he wouldn't die there and then, it was the first thing he demanded."

"That explains a few things," Sirius said. Bilia waited for him to expand on that thought, but instead he just sat, pouring himself tea, looking suddenly very normal and calm in way no one with sense would trust. "So... Snape's teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." He proffered the teapot, hiding some thought.

Bilia let him refresh her cup. "Thank you. Yes is. Jinx and all, which is rather dispiriting. I mean, Severus really would rather die than actually attack a student, properly attack, I mean, not just fire a few curses past their heads. It's rather a cowardly way to give Severus notice, don't you think? But you needn't worry that Severus is going to turn away from Harry. Not that he'll be any less vile in public and Harry, poor child, can't help but take it all rather personally."

Sirius shook his head "He understands," he said. "The lessons went pretty well, or so he says." Given how turbulent this year had been, it wasn't surprising that he moved away from the table to go and stare outside the windows. Keeping Harry from him was a visible cruelty.

"Draco answers to Severus now, by the way," Bilia let Sirius know, determined to remain an oasis of cheerful charm. "He was thrilled beyond measure when he was chosen to take the Dark Mark before he is even of age, silly boy. Severus has demanded full control of him so that he doesn't become too big for his boots and cause unwanted trouble at school."

Sirius snorted. "Good luck with that."

"As much as he can, then. However, he isn't going to persuade Draco to have good manners towards Harry, that _would_ let the cat out of the bag, and, well, we're not _entirely_ sure that Harry won't just have a great blazing row at Draco's lack of manners if he's aware that Severus is in charge. He's a very polite boy, but, Sirius, he's sixteen and not terribly subtle."

Sirius sighed. "No, well, fair enough. So, I'll go behind his back then." He was bitter, apparently, though right now she could only see the back of his brown velvet suit and his overlong hair.

"I'm leaving that with you and we'll try to weather the results as best we can. Severus being in _very_ good odour with the Dark Lord is a tremendous advantage for matters of actual life and death, so we're both hoping you can somehow persuade Harry to tolerate all of Severus's rudeness and Draco's set being absolutely obnoxious and enjoy a few screaming rows without actually raising his wand, because then Severus becomes very limited in what he can actually do."

"I'll have a word with him," said Sirius, returning to the table and grabbing another biscuit. "On Sunday. Over lunch." He grinned at her, and crunched his biscuit, back to the overgrown schoolboy.

Bilia absently vanished the crumbs. "That'll give you time to go over the house. Would you like a hand with that? I can point things out you've become so used to that they've become invisible. Kreachers a very _good_ elf, but he's not omniscient nor is he over two feet tall."

Sirius considered this idea, sitting down again, and Bilia shut up at long last and ate an afternoon tea with neat good manners, praising the biscuits and enjoying herself very much, while Sirius flicked the blazing red and orange and yellow dahlias with his fingers. 

"All right," he said, when Bilia finished her meal and sat back with a contented sigh. "Let's polish the house."

"Well, do please sit for a while and eat and let us both digest over a happy game," she told him. "Severus is out making trouble of some description for one side or the other, and I shan't see him until he comes back and has a bath and scrubs very thoroughly."

"You can't tell."

"Believe me, you absolutely can," she told him. "Well, until the next time he goes off and brews something. If he smelled like an actual Death Eater does... after Bellatrix Lestrange visited, we had to scrub the entire sitting room and the front hall to get rid of the lingering scent of corruption and death. If he pongs a bit, that's because he's come to a meeting straight from work."

Sirius didn't comment at that, he just sat down and put food on his plate.

Bilia beamed at him. "How good you are," she commented. "Oh, one amusing thing is that Dumbledore is convinced, somehow, that Severus will be doing Professor Slughorn's preparation work, but isn't offering to pay him any extra. If he _did_ , then of course I would step in, but not a knut was offered. So that's going to play out, because of course, it won't fall to the Headmaster to fill in the undone work, it will all fall to Horace Slughorn, who I assume was lured out of retirement on the false promise that he would only be required to turn up and teach. And then the course Severus will be teaching will be a step-by-step guide to everything the Dark Lord is going to throw at Harry and his allies later on, and also things that Draco and his friends are going to have to know about and deal with. A game of cards when you've eaten?"

Sirius swallowed a potted beef sandwich and nodded. "Just one game then, and we'll get on. So, what, you want Harry to pay attention?"

"It's a way to help Harry under everyone's nose, and while he doesn't like _Severus_ , he does like the subject. We'll be disappointed if he can't crack silent casting within two weeks. He had a Patronus Charm when he was still thirteen years of age, and managed a _very_ strong Summoning Charm at fourteen. And then he should also know that, although Severus will phrase it in the nastiest way he can, he will be speaking the truth as he sees it. He won't _lie_ in lessons, and if the truth is only going to get him or Harry killed, he'll merely become very nasty indeed in order to cut off that conversation.

"I'll tell him," Sirius said, and grinned, taking another sandwich. "Sunday."

"Remind Harry that Severus is absolutely no good to Harry if he's dead, and that I won't survive Severus's death. A choice I made with my eyes open, Sirius, and it's mutual, he'll die without me too, but Dumbledore must _not_ know that and Harry shouldn't. He can be allowed to think that Severus has me hostage."

Sirius drank down his tea. "Well, then," he said. "Kreacher? I'm done with this meal. It was very good, thank you."

Kreacher bowed and cleared everything away, entirely in silence.

"It was," Bilia agreed, to which the house-elf sniffed. "Now, please don't be taking offence, since we're going to be making more work for you to do. I do want you to know, too, that we're being _very respectful_ of those things I took. Oh well, he'll be bound to get over it when he's scrubbing out odd corners in the future," she sighed. "Shall we play?"

Sirius went and got the pack of cards from a rather happy-looking cabinet behind Bilia's seat that was being covered slowly in pietra dura, basically gemstone marquetry, put there by an amateur, to a design copied from works done by professionals. The bottom part of both doors was covered in completed panels that fit together like a jigsaw, bound in gilt metal.

"That is beginning to look nice!" Bilia commented. "I'm so sorry we haven't been able to go out beachcombing to get more."

"Don't worry about it," said Sirius, with a conspirational smile.

"How are you for potions? Some of them take a month to brew and we're out gathering fluxweed anyway," said Bilia.

"Getting a bit low," Sirius admitted. "I did make some, but it doesn't last as long." He darted a look at the door and back at Bilia, not liking to admit the implications of that statement.

"No, Severus is an actual genius," Bilia said, smiling fondly, and nudging Sirius to set up the game. "Now that Severus isn't teaching him, we're hoping that Harry will focus, since he does have the actual talent, but since that means more hard work, we're not hopeful and there can't be any hint that we might like him to do well. Thank you, Sirius. Oh dear, I do hope your hand is worse than mine."

"You know, if you actually bluffed, you'd do better."

"Well, yes, but it's not a good habit for me to get into when so much of our relationship depends on absolute trust. We could just play gin rummy?"

"Go on then. It's not as good with only two of us anyway."

"Let's say to fifty, that won't take too long."

Once they'd played, and Sirius had won, they went about his entire house together, with Bilia occasionally shutting him out to collect a tiny pill of black yuk that Kreacher went and disposed of. 

"Not your fault at all, it's living in a city that does it," she told him. "The trick is to collect every living thing that isn't you, and crush it down to something that's mostly carbon, soot more or less, stuck together with a sort of grease that's something like beeswax. Then, when it's thrown away, a charm turns it into various sorts of gas that are relatively harmless, and the house is clean. It picks up skin and hair and so on too. Mostly it's just very much wanting to and sheer practice, goodness only knows how I'd add wand movements and an incantation. You know the Weasley twins are adults now?"

"Yes?"

"You would be ideally placed to act as a go-between for various ingredients, wouldn't you? Then meetings upstairs might be fun and lively. Not with me, Severus would _never_ approve, but he does know I deal with you for various things."

"That's not a bad idea," said Sirius, rubbing his chin. "Yes, I'd like that. Molly won't, but I stopped worrying about what she thought of me a long time ago."

"I expect if you don't make a point of mentioning it _or_ hiding it, she won't ever find out," said Bilia. "I mean, it's normal business. Their best source of venomous tentacular seeds would be someone still at Hogwarts who is doing a Herbology N.E.W.T. if they know someone like that, you can pass that on. If no money actually changes hands, they can get around the restriction. Otherwise, it's surprising what I can pick up. Severus sometimes does get unwanted ingredients as part of a package deal or because it's a cover for spy work. You'll get nothing he's not confident about me handling."

"I trust you," Sirius told her.

She smiled into his pale eyes. "And you can trust Severus with my wellbeing," she told him. "He doesn't just merely not kill me, he actively looks out for my happiness. I'm not some pawn he's using, or a wife because he needs a wife. We're good allies and colleagues as well as being in love and somewhat friends as well."

"Only somewhat?"

Bilia sighed. "He's not a friendly or joking sort of person," she told him. "Well, he does tell jokes, but they're mostly sarcasm or rather scathing. He doesn't trust _anyone_ to not hate him, just a little bit, so he's hypersensitive to anything that smacks of ridicule. We can ridicule others, but not rib each other, which means we never _quite_ relax and just set each other into giggles. Until the Dark Lord is dead and gone, nor can we, I expect. He trusts me to not want to hurt him, and vice versa. I do like who he is at home, Sirius, very, very much. We care about one another and show it very frequently in many ways. In general, though, his mind is taken over by one or the other of his jobs, or wanting to simply do whatever will take his mind off things. Our shared goals are mostly about surviving to see the Dark Lord dead, which isn't a _friendly_ thought, exactly. It's an alliance."

"I get what you mean," said Sirius, looking sober. It did rather look as though he did. "Killing Wormtail wasn't a happy thought, but it kept me sane."

"Not something to build an actual friendship around."

"No, not really."

"Whereas we play fun games and joke around, so I'm far more _friends_ with you and Harry and so on, but not in any way romantic. One of the things I like about you is that you do appreciate the little things I do. It makes it easier to think of new things."

"I do like the flowers," said Sirius.

"Not quite," said Bilia. "What's the slight wrong note?"

"The orange."

"Oh! Yes, that's easy enough to fix. Throw me a few sickles then and I'll do another, and you can rearrange that one into something to give to Mrs Weasley as a thanks for looking after Harry for you. Ron and Harry can come and help you design it, that's time spent together, and the sort of thing Mrs Potter would probably have done with him in earlier years if she'd been around."

"Severus talks to you about her then?" Sirius said, surprised.

Bilia shook her head and moved on towards the next room. "No, never," she said. "However, people talk about her and I paid attention. Severus more or less pretends his past didn't happen at all, and I don't bring it up, since I am not in the habit of causing him pain. I know from you _now_ he knew her in some capacity, and I did know somehow anyway, but can't remember how I had the impression."

"They were best friends until fifth year," said Sirius. "Lily could never see any bad in him, even when he was really obviously a Death Eater or going to be, and then he called her a mudblood and it was finally over. She woke up."

"Well, I shan't be going to him for more information," said Bilia. "It isn't as if he can exactly make amends for anything he's done to her. He never uses the term at home, I can tell you that much."

"So he really _has_ changed."

"Since 1990, yes," said Bilia. "Probably before, because he didn't use it then either, and it wasn't a habit he had to drop. It isn't something that ever just slips out. Even Hermione is only ever an insufferable know-it-all and she can get up his nose like nobody else, except obviously Longbottom and Harry."

"Why Longbottom?" 

"Nothing sane, Sirius, and I wouldn't press the matter, because people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Leave that until when the war is over and has been for long enough for us to be settling in new peacetime patterns. We'll deal with it then. Just know that if he hadn't been a spy, he wouldn't now be a Death Eater at all. He doesn't do that job because he likes it or it's fun for him, whatever the reasons were that he first started. I have a feeling his antipathy towards poor Neville Longbottom is to do with that somehow, but he's curiously blank on the subject. Use that as a stick to beat him with, Sirius, and I'll be really very cross with you."

Sirius met her eyes and ducked his chin in a slightly scared nod, even though she was speaking in the mildest of tones. "I'll leave it," he said.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him, her tone warm. "Let's concentrate on happy things again. Well, housecleaning, but it's all getting ready for future parties, isn't it? How did Harry do on his O.W.L.s?"

"Outstanding in Potions, I was supposed to tell you," Sirius said, pushing open a door and immediately blasting cobwebs down from the ceiling. "He says it's all down to you, and to Snape not looking over his shoulder."

"Snape never did if it was actually volatile, an approach he rather regrets for Neville Longbottom's first lesson," said Bilia. "Being nasty to Harry then was pure spite and even he doesn't quite understand why he did it. Pure unthinking rage, so that he was simmering that whole lesson, and since then, well, he's tried to be more reasonable but it's been all scowling defiance, which only sets him off again. He can discuss Harry calmly enough in the abstract; he just can't deal with seeing him in person."

"He's the spitting image of James," said Sirius, still working with his wand. "That's probably why."

"I've no idea. As I said, I don't poke into these things. That lesson was just frustrating for him, since he _meant_ to be purely neutral other than favouring his Slytherins and all this rage just popped up absolutely from nowhere. Disliking Harry as a teenage student is rather easier, because he got rather on my nerves during Remedial Potions too. It was a shock when we were friendly all holidays and suddenly when it was time for a lesson, this sullen stranger turned up, wearing Harry's face and not liking me at all. He didn't like me any better for asking him for basic good manners either. But then he got over whatever strange mood was bothering him and we became cordial again. Out you pop then and I'll see to all the yuk."

Bilia left a house that didn't smell quite so much of incipient depression and glue-breath, with an order for several types of gemstone that weren't likely to turn up while beachcombing, and a request to sort out the golden tableware commission that had been interrupted by Severus taking one for the team. She would be popping over to help get the entire house updated, and to collect various unwanted knick-knacks, either to clean up and sell, or to keep for herself.

Severus was covered in dark slime when Bilia came back, sorting things out into a set of buckets, so she changed and joined him, both of them clearly not about to go and answer any call.

"How is the mutt?" Severus asked, once Bilia was making herself useful.

Billia let a dark grey wriggling, slimy lump drop into a bucket that was two-thirds full of what looked like partly-melted dark grey tadpoles, and one third bubbling slime. "Depressed," she said. "Too much time with his own thoughts, so I've had to pick him up again." She pulled off the grey thing that was biting her with white, needle-sharp teeth, without breaking the teeth, and put the wriggling lumpy creature in the bucket, spelling her wound clean and closed. "We spent the time cleaning. You know, the last time he was posthumously pardoned."

"I'm aware."

"In other words, he'll be set up to die, and we'll have to deal with mopey Harry, who is rather a trial when he _isn't_ angry and grieving."

"I'm aware." The exact same intonation, too, his eyes on his work.

"Oh good," Bilia said, relieved. "Anyway, he's _almost_ being actually nice about you, and he is being concerned. I passed on your gratitude for my not having to work." She looked at him, rather than picking up another of whatever these odd things were that Severus had picked up by dredging some stinking pond. Given his lack of concern for the bites, they weren't venomous.

Severus gave a tired-looking nod. "I did take on board that he has been minding his manners during meetings," he said. He gave a nasty little grin. "Also the fact that the Headmaster does not like us to get along."

Bilia smiled nastily as well. "I wonder what the Headmaster's going to do when he asks you to kill him and you say no?"

His dark eyes flashed in glee. "Oh, pile on the guilt," he said. "I'm _not_ doing it again. It did me no favours at all, since who else would the Dark Lord have as Headmaster? The Dark Lord knows he's dead whatever happens anyway, even if it had weighted the scale."

"I'm aware," Bilia said lightly, picking up another wriggling thing from the main tub.

"I'm sorry," he said, realising he'd irritated her with that same answer.

"Make it up to me later. What _are_ these things?"

"Immature Hagmouths. The mature ones are highly venomous and toxic, but at this stage they exude a useful slime with interesting properties I'll go into at some point when not covered in stinking mud."

"I do love learning new things," Bilia said cheerfully. "I love you as well, so both together is going to be a wonderful treat. I'll cook something nice for after the lesson."

He smiled, and they went into a period of quiet, mutually fond concentration, with the occasional hiss as a Hagmouth bit into one or the other of their hands.

* * *

That evening, they had an Order meeting, the first Bilia had attended to all summer, despite numerous invitations that had been more-or-less politely-worded orders, and which Bilia had entirely ignored.

She entered the kitchen first, smiled at everyone, then, when invited to do so, sat down where a smiling Sirius indicated she should. He was apparently looking forward to the fireworks. Mrs Weasley was affronted, arms folded in a sulk, further up the table, by Dumbledore's right hand, which meant of course that if she took off, he had all the benefit of her screeching voice. Moody, the second-loudest Order member, was on Dumbledore's left.

Severus came in the next moment, dressed to the nines in more expensive clothes than they were used to him wearing, although he always had put on his Sunday best for every meeting. So had Sirius, while Mrs Weasley was wearing a pinny, looking as if she'd popped in between laundry loads. Moody was in his usual stinking, filthy coat.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, an edge to his tone that made everyone pay attention, and Arabella Figg put down her knitting to watch the approaching trouble with malice well-suited to a Death-Eater.

"Albus," Severus said.

"Do please take a seat," said Sirius. "Wine?"

"Thank you, no, not this evening."

"Tea then?"

"That would be most welcome, Mr Black, thank you."

"Oh, call me Sirius, Professor Snape. After all, you did save my life."

"Severus." Severus sat down, accepting his cup.

"Severus, you have repeatedly rebuffed invitations to these meetings," said Dumbledore, who hadn't interrupted the niceties, probably because time had shown that Severus did nothing until the niceties had been observed.

"That is because you are not the sort of slave-driver who would drag someone in when they were in poor health," said Severus. "You'll want me in tip-top fighting position if I'm to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." 

"Outworn your welcome, have you?" said Moody with a nasty grin.

"Not with the Dark Lord," said Severus. "I am elevated over all other Death Eaters just as he promised, his right hand."

"So, you've gone over to his side," Moody said, his hate almost shimmering over the table.

"Hardly. However, you should know that he has the full wording of the prophecy."

"SEVERUS!" said Dumbledore, all fury, standing up, so his people quailed.

"I haven't turned against you, don't worry," said Severus. He drank his tea. He truly was untouchable now, and he was well used to Death Eaters throwing tantrums. None of their spells could hit him, and he trusted, apparently, that Bilia would protect him now. "We're all here to see that he is put in the ground on a permanent basis as soon as possible."

"How could you give him the prophecy when we shed blood to keep it from him?" Dumbledore asked, looking sorrowful and betrayed and hiding a flash of real anger.

"Arthur nearly _died_ to keep him from getting that!" said Mrs Weasley.

Severus waited, Bilia waited, until the noise calmed down. The tea was good.

"I haven't been at home all summer because I was in vigorous good health," said Severus. "I'm very well aware that you did not want him to have it, but as it happens, I did have it, and saved Sirius while I was there, and stopped the Longbottom boy from surely dropping the thing, and I would have had to have been a nincompoop not to have a quick listen, since, _as_ your spy, I do better with more information rather than less. You forget that I wouldn't even _be_ a currently-active Death Eater if you had not pressed very hard for me to do so. In the end, it's a mystical piece of nonsense and that Trelawney uttered it should have been the first hint that it was. He's very pleased with me, and, Albus, has not changed a single one of his plans as a result, since it all described what is already going on anyway. Both he and Harry have an absolute obsession with destroying the other. That isn't news, Albus."

"You have no idea what damage you have wrought," said Dumbledore, sitting down again.

"Nothing in the prophecy says that his hearing it is in any way a bad idea," said Severus. "You wouldn't have let Mr Weasley risk his life guarding it if you didn't think it was important, so you must believe that it will surely come to pass, or it would be nothing more than a distraction, a cruel joke on those who risked their lives and livelihoods to guard it. In the end, his hearing it changes nothing, just as his failing to hear it because it had been smashed changed nothing. He was _already_ obsessed with seeing Harry slaughtered in any way he can, and he aready forbade any but himself from actually killing him." In this shocked silence and given Dumbledore was giving his full attention, Severus was taking advantage to say, apparently, everything that was his mind, although his clipped tones were polite. "Currently, you're the only wizard who has any chance of matching him in a duel, the rest of us could line up in our dozens and we'd only die that much sooner. Harry _somehow_ keeps on facing him and getting back out alive, so perhaps there's some small outside chance that he will actually be the one with the power to vanquish him, something the Dark Lord was well aware of when he set forth to kill Harry as a baby."

"You still shouldn't have told him," said Moody. "You shouldn't have gone against orders."

"I'm not going to die uselessly and take Bilia with me for a piece of information that is a mere rewording of information the Dark Lord already has," said Sirius. "I made a judgement call. I can just leave his side entirely if you would all rather, and be nothing but a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It would save me a great deal of time and unpleasantness, since being a reluctant Death Eater is not exactly fun."

"Easier to say than do, Snape," Moody snapped.

"Bilia? You shouldn't have agreed to that!" said Mrs Weasley.

"Mrs Snape dies when you do?" said Tonks, horrified.

"A mutual death pact," said Bilia, getting out her knitting. "Please don't call me Bilia. Severus is the only one who can make the name sound lovely to my ears."

"So, you decided, on your own, to hand over the prophecy we fought to keep him from hearing." Dumbledore was very grave.

"Yes," said Severus, with a complete lack of any shame at all, despite the glares that were growing in intensity.

"Well, we can't change what has already come to pass. We shall have to simply alter our plans accordingly. I am not pleased with you, Severus."

"You knew full well what the stakes were, Albus," said Severus, not quite displaying a lack of patience, his voice smooth, his expression unconcerned. "Either I enabled him to hear the full wording, or he killed me. You made it quite clear that any number of your plans depend on my living until our next set of exams, although not apparently beyond that date. You didn't ask me to die gloriously for the cause, instead you asked me to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. By implication then, if it was a choice between giving him the full wording or death, I was supposed to hand over the full wording."

"You would not have had it if you had not chosen to listen to it."

"Then he would have killed me out of hand, something I made very clear while at this table."

"If you truly believe that..."

Severus inclined his head.

"Then perhaps your actions are understandable."

"Moving on then, I was also approached in secret by Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy..."

There was another spat later on, a confrontation between Bilia and Mrs Weasley over the table thanks to a nasty remark loud enough to actually hear.

"Mrs Weasley, I want to know what exactly the grave offense is for which you have unilaterally decided to punish me at the table," she said to her.

"Whatever are you talking about?" 

"You know I don't like my first name. You know it hurts me, and that hearing it is like a slap in the face. That using my first name is something people will only do if they *want* to be nasty."

"But it is your name, dear," she said with a smile.

"And I've asked very nicely for you to not use it, and now I am making it clear that it hurts when you do. I'm asking you to not hurt me at the table, Mrs Weasley. Please don't use my name, it makes me quite upset when you do."

"Well... if you're going to make a fuss."

"Every time, because it really is quite unpleasant for me to hear," said Bilia firmly. 

"Molly, please do not use that name in this house," Sirius said. "Regardless of how much you dislike Mrs Snape, we are all trying to work together."

"I never said I didn't like Mrs Snape."

"Good, then we can all try to get along," said Bilia smiling. "Let's all try to forget that this just happened. I'm so sorry, what was it you were actually saying, just earlier?"

"Er..." said Mrs Weasley, going red, since she had been saying "I don't know why you persist on dragging Bilia to these meetings if she doesn't do anything."

"You were trying to clarify my wife's role within the Order," said Severus smoothly.

"Well... if you aren't even going to do as Dumbledore asks."

"My husband comes first, Mrs Weasley. I never made any secret about that," said Bilia. "He was gravely ill, so naturally I stayed right there with him."

"Well, he's not ill now, is he?"

"No. It is jam season again, so I'll be busy until November, filling our pantry for the year to come and selling whatever we both won't use. Given that he's quite likely to either die or be sacked in June, it's more important than ever."

They all looked at Severus, who drank his tea and said "Perhaps I will have some wine, if you're offering," to Sirius, who gladly filled a goblet for him. He was enjoying the showdown.

Team Black had five dark purple counters upon it, and only one blood-red, and that was showing. They'd worked very hard to keep Harry out of the Department of Mysteries, and Harry had ended up being tricked into going anyway, even as Dumbledore had been refusing to meet his eyes all year. Team Green was still roughly evens blood-red and dark purple, not part of a team Green-Black, but all sorts of moves were being played out in the background.

"Good riddance," Moody said rudely.

"Alastor," said Dumbledore.

"Mad-Eye, either take that back right now or get the hell out of my house," said Sirius. "God knows I can barely stand Severus at the best of times, he's an unpleasant, dark sort of a wizard, but you're _all_ here as my guests and we do not wish death upon my guests while I am host. Dumbledore, if you're going to stand for that sort of thing, meet somewhere else. I mean it."

"Now _there's_ a wizard who acknowledges a life debt gracefully," said Bilia approvingly, changing rows on her elaborate brown cashmere cardigan, which was looking as though it would finally be finished before the cold weather set in.

"Alastor, I think you should apologise to Severus for that remark."

"Fine, I take it back, but you're making a mistake, Dumbledore! Snape's dark through and through, always has been, always will be."

"Can we get on?" Bilia asked. "It's getting late, and I do think we're all rather tired and out of sorts."

Other than the spats, it was a dull meeting. Voldemort was now concentrating on defeating the current Ministry, which plans had not changed one iota since the prophecy had been handed over, and the Order were left with the impression that Severus had been given notice and fallen completely out of Dumbledore's trust.

* * *

Bilia rode Severus that evening, eyes closed, all sensation, until he became impatient and held her still so he could hammer into her, and then they shifted things until she called out and they eventually collapsed in a sweating heap. Hating Dumbledore was something of an aphrodisiac; sex something to look forward to, to get through the meetings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reviews and kudos, they're very warming! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.


	14. We Play These Games To Confuse, and Even Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The campaign of gentle pressure continues, forcing clarification on a few things.

In the morning after the most nerve-wracking Order meeting so far, Snape and Bilia were intimate, but not passionate, and were up mostly because it was time for breakfast, scrambled eggs with chives on buttered toast, served up in shining silver that they both kept very clean and bright.

It was satisfying, they both thought, and said, that this was the life they lived, although neither compared it to the personal histories that had made them what they now were. 

That day they emptied out and completely cleaned the pantry and kitchen. There was a lot of plain white to scour with charms that had a slightly vicious edge, and shelves to set with plain butcher's paper, and jars to put in rows, with bright silver tops, filled with pickles, jams, casseroles, the result of hundreds of hours of work carved out of the school year. Instead of decorations, there were bundles of herbs and strings of onions, garlic, mushrooms and bargain salami.

The remains were a testament to potions habits carried into the domestic sphere, in their lack of rot, weevil or chirzpuffle.

Bilia left Severus brewing something that used up some green potatoes and boded no good at all to anyone, and took the unwanted preserves over to Sirius, once his lolloping dog had given her the all-clear. Her hat was the same she usually wore, her summer coat smart and fashionable, her boots sadly lacking a house-elf's care, but good enough for Sirius.

"Hello, dear Sirius," she said, as Sirius let her in, noting a bright, clean smell to the place. She held up her basket. "We've had a clear-out, and these are all the things we aren't going to eat. Nothing actually bad, just either we didn't eat as much as we actually thought we would, or it's good food but it turns out we don't like it. There's some crystalised fruit, dried mushrooms, various leftover jams, that sort of thing. Not for sale, these are surplus I'm giving away. Would you like to take a look?"

"Yes, all right. Why me?" Sirius closed the door behind her and led her on the usual route to the dining room with its nice large table.

"Because you're a friend and stuck inside where you can't easily shop, and it might be new and different," said Bilia. "Hand on anything you don't actually like, or perhaps Kreacher will."

In exchange, she took away old clothes with fabric she wanted to turn into other things, and, here in this private and well-guarded room, they finally went over the design for golden tableware that would be a family heirloom. Leo and Canis Major, picked out in diamonds, since he'd changed his mind - just lions _did_ make them look like something he'd stolen from McGonagall's office.

* * *

The next evening, she came to dinner as a guest, let in by Sirius, who brushed up well and wasn't exactly ugly to begin with, entering a large room that might well have been the sitting room refurbished for the occasion, but was quite possibly a spare room that just appeared at need.

Plain gold wallpaper made a gaudy backdrop to orange-haired Weasleys, rather too many, and Harry and his entire two friends. There was Lupin, looking thin and dressed in tweed, deep in conversation with Arthur Weasley, who wore grey and looked serious and already older than the year before. Less hair and less colour to what remained.

Bilia was alone in a soft blue evening robe that at least did not highlight her poor looks, and Sirius had left her there to go and talk to his godson and drag him over to say hello. 

"Where's your husband, Mrs Snape?" Mrs Weasley asked, bustling over from a conversation with her daughter. She herself was wearing pale blue that didn't clash, but it looked worn and the home-crocheted dark blue cardigan wasn't elegant. Her narrow eyes only made her look older and pudgier.

"Oh, Sirius and Severus can't stand one another," said Bilia cheerfully. "I can't see their ever being friends. Being studiously polite for an evening isn't his idea of fun, and we're not about to wish him upon Sirius either, but usually when I'm here I have a tremendous time. My goodness, Harry, when did you suddenly become an adult? Aren't you a year early? Congratulations on being a wizard in good standing, by the way. They can't snap your wand now, you realise." Bilia abandoned Mrs Weasley, stepping around her, and greeted Harry, offering an embrace that he took, just barely. 

"Hello Mrs Snape," said Harry, who was probably going through a small hell, surrounded by adults while dressed in formal robes. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," she said, eyeing a teenager who had clearly been brought up to scratch. Considering his past, Sirius could be a real stickler. The hair was a disaster, but looking over the rest of him, it was clearly past mending, because he never looked this neat at school. "You look well."

"I passed Potions." Clearly Harry been ordered to pass that knowledge on, but a fragile trust was there. It was all too easy to tell who was Harry's enemy.

"He got an Outstanding," said Hermione, arriving from the buffet table with drinks for them both. She looked at Harry suspiciously.

Harry scowled and took the other drink, glancing at Ron, who was entranced by some conversation with his older brother Bill. So was Ginny.

"Then all those Remedial Potions lessons clearly worked," said Bilia in her most cheerful tone, looking at the pair before her. "Miss Granger, how are you? I thought you'd like to know that Severus never once uttered one word of regret for jumping in front of you like that, no matter how close he came to dying, or how painful it all was, so there needn't be any awkwardness between you. He still calls you an insufferable know-it-all but none of it is about the fight."

"Did he get into a lot of trouble?" Hermione asked, her face screwed up with worry. She looked young in periwinkle blue that needed to be let down a little and brought up to date, her hair roughly fastened back in a welter of frizz by pins topped with false diamonds.

"Without having the full wording of the prophecy to hand over, he would have been dead anyway, so the fight could only have two outcomes," said Bilia. "Either Severus was dead, in which case saving you and Sirius didn't matter in the slightest, or the Dark Lord would elevate him for handing it over, in which case, saving you and Sirius didn't matter in the slightest. So no, he's rewarded Severus and moved onto other things, namely the downfall of the Ministry, but that was the plan he already had."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well, erm... can you tell him thanks?"

"I think if you simply do as you are told in lessons without a hint of argument, it will be payment enough," said Bilia with a cheerful smile, actually very pleased to see gratitude. "That would display the proper deference due to one owed a life debt, which will all seem very proper and right, it won't endanger Severus, but it will make his N.E.W.T.s lessons that much less trying. This doesn't mean he'll be any nicer, I'm afraid. People will be watching and reporting back."

"I do understand," said Hermione, and she really did seem to. "I'll do my best."

Harry was frowning, giving Hermione a look that said he wasn't at all keen on the implications of this conversation.

"Harry owes him nothing whatsoever, so he can be as rude as he feels he should be," said Bilia firmly. "Ron as well."

"Doesn't Snape owe me a life debt, though?" said Harry. "My father saved him." To his credit, he looked more worried than conniving. He looked for Sirius, who was charming Mrs Weasley somehow.

"In fact, no, not at all," said Bilia. "I'm sorry, but you don't get to collect on that particular piece of heroism, and arguably, he was as much saving Mr Lupin as he was saving Severus. And then, of course, having been bound by Professor Dumbledore not to mention the event, even _had_ he owed you a life debt, he couldn't so much as give a hint, because he gave his word that he would not bring the matter up again, before your father as a witness, and your father agreed. Thus, the debt was cancelled. So, twice over, no, he owes you nothing, and you owe him nothing. You need to know that, however nasty he is this year, every lesson is exactly tailored so that his students get the most out of it, and you'll be learning a lot to help you survive the war. In other words, even though he is being unpleasant, please do still learn, because no other professor is so well placed to let you know what the Dark Lord will be throwing at you."

"Right," said Harry. "Well, he's always a git anyway."

"Harry!"

"Given how vile he is in lessons, I am forced to let that pass," Bilia said with a smile. "He does keep saying that if you would only meet him halfway, there would be a great deal less friction. I do think he means it. I know he was unpleasant in his first lesson when you had done nothing wrong, and he has no idea why he exploded as he did, but since then he's been trying to be more neutral and every lesson, that good intention goes flying out of the window. Yes he _should_ know better, but apparently he doesn't. It's a new situation, since it's a N.E.W.T. you chose, and a new subject. You'll recall, also, that even though you *like* me, you were rather awful for our first few lessons, so I think something does act upon you, some force of habit."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'll try." Hermione squeezed his arm and he gave her a grateful smile. Sirius was talking to Ron and Mrs Weasley both now, and she sounded proud.

Bilia went back to her news. "It's silent casting, and he thinks you're intelligent enough to have it within two weeks, given you managed a Patronus Charm in third year and a _perfect_ Summoning Charm of significant power in fourth year. I don't think he ever shares his expectations, so I'm saving you from wondering why he becomes particularly nasty in week three. He plans to make sure you properly have it, then move on to everything you need to know that he can teach you in the single year we both know he has."

Harry nodded and was visibly relieved when Sirius came close and said "We're about to go and sit down." Ron was right behind him, giving Bilia a look that was only mildly suspicious and wanting to know what Harry might have to pass on. 

Bilia cancelled the muffling charm, and took her place in the dining room. From then on it was all small talk and displays of manners, or lack thereof. Hermione at least knew not to correct her friends, which did a great deal to keep the table relaxed, and if Mrs Weasley looked like the food was tainted by the company, she wasn't actively making trouble and she was fond of everyone else there. 

When the talk turned to the war, Bilia and Sirius both turned it to something more cheerful, stories of the wider world that wasn't on fire or being blasted apart or gone missing.

The food was very, very good, and some crystallised rose petals romantic but not any sort of favourite, made it into one of several puddings on offer. Bilia took and enjoyed one of the eclairs that Sirius had apparently decided he could go and fetch himself, given his look of mischief.

Eventually, they all played parlour-games, in warm lamplight with laughter and bad jokes, until the hour got close to midnight, and Bilia made her goodbyes. "I had a lovely evening, thank you," she told him. "I'll bring a bottle of wine the next time."

"The stuff you make yourself will be just fine," Sirius told her. "I look forward to seeing you. Will you be around on Sunday?"

"The Sunday after next if you feel a need for us," said Bilia. "Or I can turn up late with apologies if it's an emergency."

"Right then. See you next Wednesday, if you like." He was relaxed, no longer jumping from mood to mood, master of his domain bidding goodbye to an actual friend. "You're right, we needed this." He looked back over his shoulder and at her again. "All of us, I think."

"I'll let Severus know." She let him kiss her cheeks and went home to a nice warm bed and sleepy husband, letting him wrap around her and shift his hips to let her know he was interested, though he was back asleep again before long.

* * *

In the morning, Severus wasn't interested at all. He had school to be ready for Slughorn was apparently travelling up on the last day, and Dumbledore had told Severus he wouldn't mind seeing to all the supplies, when Severus did mind, a great deal. 

Severus and Bilia were thus entirely busy with lessons plans and props. Most of his students were blithering idiots hell-bent on suicide-through-wilful-ignorance, and yet they needed this training to get through the war alive, and for once, they were both determined to do a good job. None of this was theoretical, and Severus couldn't afford to lose attention because he was snapping at morons, so he was trying to meet them at their own level.

Harry's class depended mostly on Harry's willingness to actually listen, although Severus would be making every effort to remain calm in the face of sullenness.

"If need be, I'll hand over to you for general instruction while I teach individuals," said Severus. 

"Unpaid, obviously," said Bilia. "It's a good thing I really love you. Very well, we can do nice and nasty. I'll make it plain that I'm learning from you. So... we'll do handouts rather than making them hunt out books, and suggested reading lists that Harry will flat-out ignore and Hermione will dive into. Homework's never been a problem, thankfully. If you break your lectures into five minutes of talk, one minute of demonstration or illustration, one minute of catching up on notes, and tell them that as N.E.W.T.s students, if they become bored they may simply leave but they must not, on any account, distract other students who want to be here, and then _stick_ to it, Draco will actually be far more impressed than if you pander to him. Lives, including his, depend on actual obedience."

"Any insolence will be reported to the Dark Lord and we'll deal with it in meetings," said Severus. "I won't harm him inside school."

"No. At least we know he won't listen and doesn't care whether you want to help him or not. Do you know what the plot is?"

"No, merely that there is one, and that he is not to disrupt my teaching with it."

"Well, then. I would discipline all four houses equally. You don't _need_ to pander any more. The Dark Lord needs you for his Headmaster, and honestly, Severus, bullying children isn't something to be proud of."

"Dumbledore is in for a shock," said Severus. He smiled his horrible smile. "He's had several already."

"The main one being that you're not remotely afraid of him," said Bilia with a smile. "That _was_ interesting, wasn't it, that he tried to browbeat you in front of everyone? Once you're slipping out of his control, the mask slips, and everyone's seen that now."

"Naturally they hate me for daring to stay alive."

"Naturally. He's made it clear that he's content for you to die in June. What do you _want_ to do?"

"Go through the following year with you by my side."

"I'll teach Muggle Studies then, and we cruciate anyone who touches a student in a bad way, because you're in an actual castle and they can bloody well practice on rats."

"Rats, yes," Severus replied, making a note on one of many, many rolls of parchment weighed down by smooth grey stones.

"And we'll have a Dark Arts curriculum for the following year, my love, not just one spell. Curse and counter-curse, and how to master the Dark Arts without their mastering you. You can teach N.E.W.T.s level, it'll give you a chance to look at every student and into their thoughts. Who would you like to teach the lower levels?"

"Not the Carrows. I don't know, Bilia."

He sounded peevish, and she kissed him. "Perhaps ask Narcissa? It puts two pale greys in what will be a dark purple square, and might relieve Lucius Malfoy's mind somewhat, since she won't be subject to the horrors of the Manor. Arranging this now behind the Dark Lord's back is merely foresight rather than insurrection."

"That is not actually a terrible idea," said Severus. 

"Invite her over for advice then. I am here as chaperone and she was polite. Would Lucius be?"

"I'll ask him to mind his manners," said Severus. "He will probably welcome the respite." 

"Excellent, then as well as the curriculum, we need to plan small menus, whether they turn up or not. We're rather in danger of falling back on old favourites, this will make us pay attention. November's dreary and the pantry will be full." 

He nuzzled her neck, causing her to throw her head back and lose all thought for a few minutes as he gently bit, then he kissed her and pulled away. "Work, my dear."

"Silent casting for Harry plus one lessons, and what then?"

* * *

The atmosphere when Bilia and Severus turned up at the next Order meeting that Severus was invited to was one of cold disapproval, except for Sirius, who was a genial host.

Bilia smiled as she always did, and settled down, accepted wine and took out her knitting. The same cardigan, with its complicated list of coded instructions that she put before her on the scrubbed-clean table top.

Tonks gave Severus a look, and looked away, seeming somewhat angry. Lupin was looking down at his hands, fiddling with something, probably his wand.  
Mrs Figg was knitting smugly, as always, giving Bilia's cashmere a nasty look, and concentrating on her own work, socks of much better quality than the first efforts that Bilia had seen.

Mrs Weasley was looking away as well, as if the fireplace occupied all her thoughts. It was clean and decent, no scattering of ash, which meant Kreacher was lurking around somewhere.

Bilia glanced at Sirius, but he shook his head just slightly, so she concentrated on her work, and Severus merely commented, as he always did, on the wine.

"Alastor, please see to the door," said Dumbledore.

Moody did so, casting spells Severus had studied, memorised and improved upon. Now he wasn't wallowing constantly in despair or full of fear, he could think and plan and learn. 

Moody gave Severus a dirty look and sat down.

"Our first order of business, then, is the saving of the Ministry. Severus, do you have anything to report?"

"Yes, of course," said Severus smoothly. "Corban Yaxley is his main hope, and Dolores Umbridge will be very highly placed—"

"Dolores Umbridge is a Death Eater?"

"No, and she doesn't need to be, any more than John Dawlish does. Cornelius Fudge will also be elevated, since he understands the Ministerial job. He hasn't _said_ , but I have the strong impression that the actual Minister will be acting under the Imperius Curse and I _suspect_ , but do not know, that Corban Yaxley will be the one that has him under control. Yaxley isn't getting something done quickly enough, and I was asked to give encouragement and did."

"Torture, you mean," said Moody.

"Yes, well, that is what the Dark Lord generally means when he asks one Death Eater to give another Death Eater encouragement, but I rather thought it might be nice to not dwell overmuch on the digusting things that I am relied upon, as one of the Order's spies, to do."

That sent a jolt as they all looked at one another, wondering who was the other Death Eater. Dumbledore didn't like it either, which made Bilia wonder who was the other Death Eater, until she realised that of course, Lucius Malfoy wasn't an occlumens. And then, of course, he'd said spies, not Death Eater spies, so there were Mr Weasley, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Doge as well.

"Who's the other, Dumbledore?" asked Tonks, who seemed very bothered by the news.

"Severus is the only Order member who is also a Death Eater," said Dumbledore firmly. "Very well, Severus, and I am sorry that your tasks weigh upon you so heavily. You have made it very clear from the start that you would much rather defect. I was wondering what you would do if we let you go?"

"Whatever I could to see to the Dark Lord's demise, I just wouldn't be bowing and scraping to him while I did it," said Severus firmly. "Whether I'm in the Order or not, I'll do what I can, and if I am in the Order, whether I am spying upon him or not, I'll do what I can. I agreed to go back only because you told me that you needed me to be where I am, doing what I am doing, and that you depended upon me, or I never would have done it. Muggle blood is on my hands because I had to make myself be trusted on your orders, Albus. That isn't a stain that washes clean. Now please do not tell me that I murdered someone to get into the Dark Lord's good graces and you have now decided that you can do without me after all."

Bilia mentally moved a number of counters around as she looked about the table in between carefully done stitches to a complicated pattern written down as numerical instructions. She got out her quill and made a note at the top of her pattern, then undid a series of stitches and did them again.

"I would not have asked so grave a price without very good reason," said Dumbledore. "I just wanted to know whether I could rely on you. This war is not going to become any easier, nor, sadly, any less bloody, and the most difficult orders are yet to come."

"Bilia and I have been putting our affairs in order," said Severus. "I'll do what I can to ease the transition to next year's teacher." His voice was soft, a tone that the Order had never heard before. He was a man being asked to die for the cause, and bowing to the inevitable with good grace.

Moody had the grace to look actually ashamed, and Mrs Weasley teared up suddenly. They were all very affected.

Bilia gave a brave smile herself, and wiped her eyes and concentrated on her knitting, without getting anything done.

"Your sacrifices on our behalf will not be in vain," said Dumbledore. "I promise you that. However, I am not asking you to die, Severus. I am asking you to live. To gain Voldemort's trust, and carry on a difficult, complex plan, in fact the _only_ plan that has any chance of success. There will be more blood on your hands, but, Severus, I need your willing, full-hearted acquiessence for all of it, and for you to keep it entirely to yourself."

"If it involves my wife, she will have to know," said Severus. "I rely upon her for my sanity and a sense of moral direction, so I don't end up an absolute monster claiming anything I do for the cause is good because I do it. She will not give away anything I tell to her in confidence."

"Made her take an Unbreakable Vow, did you?" said Moody.

"Mr Moody, I'm right here," said Bilia with a tired testiness. "What harm you think _I've_ ever done, I'm sure I don't know, but you are being rather unpleasant about me and you know full well poor Severus can't so much as utter a rebuke without a silly, stupid row about the fact that he's a Death Eater when we all know that he only is because that's what the Order needs him to do. Now, I never have been a Death Eater, or anything like it, so I'm rather cross at you for that last piece of nastiness. Just because the last war was hard on you does not mean you need to be a cunt to me about it. Do pardon my manners, but I've reached my limit." She gave him a hard stare.

"Albus, could you remind Moody that we're all on the same side?" asked Severus. "He's being rather insulting to my wife, and from now on I'll be telling him _exactly_ what I think of his digs and snide remarks, because I, too, have reached my limit."

"Alastor, please," said Dumbledore. 

"He's got you wrapped around his thumb, Dumbledore," said Moody. "He couldn't wait to get back into it and he knows full well you don't want him dead."

Bilia glanced at Severus and back to the show.

"I think you can have this particular row without the pair of us," Severus said. "Invite me back when I can next be useful. Sirius."

"Severus."

Severus put an arm around Bilia and moved her to the fireplace.

"Why is he always so _horrible_?" Bilia asked, clearly near tears, and they left.

At home, they hurried to secure the house and the dining room in particular. They made sure they were safe from eavesdroppers then got tea and settled down by the game board. The supposed game resembled none either had ever seen, with its coloured rectangles and connecting coloured lines, and too many pieces, and no squares to actually move to. If asked to explain the rules, they would have been flummoxed - it wasn't a real game, merely a way to hide their war-table.

The pieces sat exactly as they'd been left. "Well, now I have an idea Blood-red need someone other than Dung to betray Team Wood for death-by-Death-Eater, but Dumbledore will need his door-gargoyle gone," said Bilia, touching the plain wood piece that represented Moody, her tone calm and cool. "Keep him alive anyway?"

"Watching the Headmaster scramble to fix what we've been doing is always instructive," said Severus, who was equally calm. "Wood isn't buying our little performance."

"No, clearly not, so it probably does help if we let him live."

"He has a foe-glass."

"Oh, so he does. Then going after him would be silly. Why didn't he realise he was being set up to die before then?"

"Perhaps he wasn't. Dung would have betrayed whoever he was with and it happened to be Moody."

"Let's not take Fred's ear this time."

"I've more or less agreed to the whole stupid plan all over again," Severus said with a sigh. "I'll see what I can throw at them that they should know the counter to."

"It's a very stupid plan indeed," said Bilia. "How about going after Lupin?" 

"If I can get anywhere near him."

"Leave the others to live or die or not, save whoever's handy... hate to say it, but you could probably get a good duel going with Black if he lives that long. We can train in secret so that you can both pretend to try to take one another out in any ambush."

"Let's sort out counters first."


	15. Let The Deaths Be All Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Sirius are coming to heel, Bilia does some of her best work and everyone is nice and healthy.

Bilia turned up at the haven that number twelve, Grimmauld Place had become, as had been planned, with a sample goblet which looked elegant, ridiculously expensive and very, very light. Flares of gold gave the impression of the sun's rays, or of fur, depending on the angle. Churning flames could be a lion on one side, a dog on the other. In the spaces between were two constellations in bright diamond, then, around the base, in flowing script, "Sirius Black had me made. Bilia Snape made me".

"That's quite something," Sirius said, turning it so he could watch the different ways it picked up the light and sent it out again. It seemed almost to glow in his hands, in this lamplit room. It was also, clearly, rather heavy for its size. 

"Thank you," Bilia said. "A dozen, then, of these, and we'll work up towards the full table set?"

"Yes, all right. How much gold do you need?"

"I've got the figures at current prices. I can make them lighter, with various tricks, but then it won't so obviously be gold. Or we can have gilt and glass--"

"No, I want solid gold."

Bilia unrolled some parchment. "Then this is what it will cost for raw materials, and then I'm going to charge for my time, rather a lot actually. That _is_ the first, they'll all be... very _nearly_ the same, as close as I can get. And numbered, and dated on the bottom. They'll have rather tired hands by the end of the evening, Sirius." 

"Let them. This is perfect. Harry will love it."

Bilia smiled. "Well, then, I'll stop raising objections and get on with the work. Severus has an idea, but it's to do with the war. He wants you to meet him in the middle of nowhere, which is the first sticking point, and then for you to be a duelling partner, which is the second. And then I can't go along, which is the third, so he'll understand absolutely if you say no. You can choose the place so long as you're sure nobody from _either_ side will stumble on it by accident. Or muggles, of course."

"A duelling partner?"

"As Dumbledore pointed out, the war's only going to get bloodier, and it's not beyond reason that Severus is going to be dragged into future ambushes and asked to try to kill Order members."

Sirius grimaced. "He's not just setting up some excuse?" he said, but it was habit, rather than vicious hatred that made him check.

Bilia could have laughed, but she was used to being calmly cheerful unless there was a clear joke. "So, anyway, he thought, if you're both used to fighting one another, with him in Death Eater robes, you'll be able to put on a nice display of him doing his best to kill you."

Sirius was a wonderful example of a wizard caught between two warring impulses. 

Well, she'd persuaded him often enough before. All year, in fact. "Choreographed moves, memorised spell sequences and so on. And then you can direct his fire towards fights where one of ours is hard-pressed, although he'll need a lot of practice to be good enough to fire accurately into a scrimmage. He'll be working on that without you, just target practice with charmed bits of cloth, then he'll want you to practice with."

Mentally, she added another dark purple counter as Sirius started picturing it, nodding just slightly. Enough. His eyes were fixed on her, rather than her basket.

"And he can direct you, too," she continued, "if he sees that someone is hard-pressed behind you, give you a flurry of spells that causes you to retreat or something. And some warning when you're about to be hit from behind. Vice versa would be nice, since I do need him and there are some Death Eaters who won't exactly cry if he dies suddenly."

"Yeah, all right," said Sirius, acknowledging the truth of her words and, if anything, seeming to become more alive, and he'd become quite lively anyway ever since she'd kicked him up the arse and made him socialise.

"He'll be in Death Eater robes, so you know," said Bilia. "This is very secret. Explaining to the Order in front of Moody could be rather awkward too."

"Just a bit," said Sirius and blew out his cheeks. "He _really_ doesn't like Severus. I mean, I didn't, but... was he really putting his affairs in order?"

"We both have been, yes. We were wondering, actually, why he wanted Severus dead, I mean, he didn't _want_ the teaching position he now has. There's no good outcome and it's down to sheer chance as to why there's a sudden departure, but after twenty teachers or more, it's not really a coincidence. One year, then some catastrophe and out. Severus doesn't know what he's done, and he gave his reasoning about the prophecy."

"He did." Sirius shook his head. "I don't know what Dumbledore wants, either. He still won't tell anyone why he trusts Severus, although frankly I do trust him because I trust you."

"Consistent actions for someone's good will do that," said Bilia with a smile. "It did work exactly as I said. You've been a good host and now we don't get snarled at by you all through meetings. We've decided that Moody will probably want to get Severus killed or arrested as a Death Eater and probably, actually the latter, Severus doesn't think he has a murderous streak, and it will be difficult for Dumbledore to enact any plan at all that involves trusting Severus, but we can't do anything about it, we just have to do our best. We are pretty sure the grand plan involves Severus murdering someone, which is a bit difficult to stomach."

"I would say that Dumbledore would never do that, but he has, hasn't he? Severus murdered that muggle. I didn't know it bothered him. I didn't even think twice about it."

"I don't think a night goes by where he doesn't see that muggle's face," said Bilia quietly. "Severus thought that Dumbledore would want to talk to him about it, but the meeting just moved on and nobody's mentioned it since. I don't even know if the muggle was a man or a woman. I suspect a man, it seems... better, but... He goes so blank, Sirius. And then he comes out of it and can't hold me close enough. Being asked to die for the cause was... easier than this. Not easier, but not easy at all, but... not so completely, absolutely awful. He'll do it. We have to trust that Dumbledore's telling the truth and there's no other way at all. It's just... hard sometimes."

"I think we all saw, last night, what you see," said Sirius, his tone soft. "Well... not Mad-Eye."

"No. Well, we're not going to harm a hair on Mr Moody's head, but it is a complication," said Bilia. "I think Dumbledore's well aware. He'll do whatever it takes, and at the end of it, the Dark Lord will be dead and we all go on, those of us still living. That's going to be easier if he can show off his duelling skills in ambushes," she added in a brighter tone.  
"Fine then, he'll send a patronus before nine some morning and go to the meeting place you send back, how about that?"

"That sounds good. When?"

"Sunday. No, Monday, that gives you time to get rid of cuts and bruises. Pass on my love to Harry when you see him."

"I will do. I'll see you out."

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black of course watched Bilia go, but Bilia coming in to sell things wasn't new. Nor was her wandering off with bundles of fabric. This one contained a bag of gold and a request for more polyjuice, on top of the staggeringly expensive set of goblets.

That much gold, Severus picked up through the goblins, enough for one goblet at a time. Bilia still hadn't sold the thing, since she needed the first goblet to be a pattern for all the rest in all the fine detailing that hadn't quite come out as the sketches showed. Sirius, however, was covering expenses. They weren't in debt for this.

Severus was pleased with himself, and her. He had visits to make, scattering Snape largesse among dependents, gathering news and information and good will. 

"Pass on my regards," was all Bilia said, to his having a list of mostly single witches to go and see. The overlooked, the needy, and Felicity Bright, by appointment, giving always just enough insight into the near future to be worth all the time and trouble of looking after her relatives.

She herself had a lot of work to do, but neither of them were ever idle for very long.

* * *

Bilia turned up to dinner on Wednesday evening, all bright smiles and pleased with herself, with plans to meet Sirius the next morning for business.

Harry was there. His last week before he went off to school to do his N.E.W.T.s, and he greeted Bilia with some enthusiasm. Given Sirius's good spirits, Bilia guessed that Harry was staying now with Sirius. 

Bilia was all smiles to Mrs Weasley, who was barely polite back, and made pleasant conversation in her usual chattering way, smoothing over any faux pas where she could, and in general trying to be pleasant to everyone. With this the second identical evening meal, she could relax a little, and try to find safe topics to discuss that didn't bore anyone silly.

On Thursday, she was finally a wealthy woman, with lots more where that came from, so long as Sirius Black lived. She wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

Severus was. It would mostly go towards a cauldron of Felix Felicis, or, rather, it would mean they did not have to scrimp and save nearly so much to afford it. They could afford a few useful magazines and buy books when they were published.

Saving up for the future didn't occur to either of them. This _was_ saving up, by improving their skills and improving their luck.

Neither were in the mood for trips out to Paris.

They set out the board.

"Team Plain Wood has two orange counters and one blood-red," Bilia said. "Team Orange is heavily weighted towards Blood-red so it almost doesn't matter."

"Team Black is entirely dark purple or green," said Severus, taking off a red counter. "He'll follow the plan as long as we think it's a good idea."

"Team Green has lost an orange counter, gained a black one and another dark purple. When he turns up with that accursed book, get him into Remedial Potions if you can."

"Very well. Some spurious detention. I imagine that we'll be at one another's throats by then."

"Parchment-Small has one less black counter, one more orange, one more blood red."

"She really is insufferable."

"There are still plenty of green counters, and Team Green is very heavily black, we're almost level with orange. Now, Team Orange..." Bilia distributed a few dark purple tokens. "And then that matching pair have two more black tokens each. Team Grey..." 

"Another dark purple, and we'll do the rest on the other board. Team Pink?"

"Still entirely focused on Team Scruffy Brown who is still almost entirely blood-red... in fact, I'd take a black token off, so... yes, some slight change. And one more scruffy brown token on pink, and one more orange."

"We can write them off then."

"Disposable, yes. Parchment-Small still has several dark purple tokens, it's just people are working on her and she likes nice definite rules. If we're following the stupid plan, it barely matters anyway."

"No," said Severus. "Are we?"

"Well, not the parts that say you're alone and literally everyone hates you," said Bilia. "I mean, we'll always have a welcome at Black's place, so long as he's alive, it's just working on all the others. Team Green inherits anyway, but he's not free to look after the place, but we can always get to him to ask him if we can use it."

"That's true. Though Team Red will take it over."

"No, it just needs a housewife, and that's what I am. Kreacher knows me, we're comfortable together. I simply come home at night to you, and look after the place. Team Green shouldn't mind all that much, especially if we're keeping him informed."

"Very well, given that I'll be at school all day anyway. Those in Team Green on the white square might fall out of our influence if we don't make ourselves useful."

"Then we'd better go and find out how," Bilia smiled. "Team Parchment?"

"Blood-red. I haven't exactly been likeable."

"Well, your new job will be very cheering," said Bilia with a smile. "They'll all be able to see how much you _hated_ teaching Potions, while Team Green will see how very brave you're being. Parchment-Small as well. Team Silver..."

They both glanced at the silver piece on the silver part of the board, the one with only two purple tokens next to it, and looked back at the ones they were contesting."One dark purple on silver small. One dark purple on forest green."

"Oh, very well done. Although we can add red counters as well I assume."

"Very probably, yes, but nothing much has changed for the parchments. Team Red, then, the minor players..."

* * *

Bilia was arranging a display on the inside of the windowsill for the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. September was changing to October on the morrow, and so she was setting up autumnal plants, although this rather forbidding display, with dark green and black leaves, and blood-red flowers, some with fangs, could not have been more different to the cheery display of red and green and yellow that was brightening Sirius Black's windowsill at a house that was very nearly Bilia's second home.

This display menaced and lurked, promising puncture marks and swollen fingers to any grabbing fingers. She stood back to admire the effect, then very carefully moved on to the next one.

The door opened, and Harry Potter sidled in. On seeing Bilia there, he looked relieved, though he still darted a glance up to the office. "I've got a detention?" he said.

Bilia had a look at him. Wary, rather than belligerent, which was nice. "Yes. Shut the door and give me a hand with this lot, but do clean your hands before you join me. There's a sink at the back."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Harry said, looking mulish.

"No, granted, now, can we please get on?"

"If I didn't do anything, why—"

"Oh for crying out loud, do we have to do this every single time?" said Bilia. "Please, Mr Potter, close the door, then go and wash your hands, then join me. We can spend the entire evening going through these three points over and over again or you can just do them and we can go on to the next thing."

"Fine!" said Harry and shut the door with ill grace. He came back to the table.

Bilia looked over his hands. "Better give that one a scrub," she said, pointing at a recalcitrant stain. "Come on now, you know better than this," and she smiled at him.

Warily, he went and did as he was told, and came back, questioning again.

"Right, so, we really do have to get these things done, and they're all N.E.W.T.s level plants, so messing about is going to be horribly painful. In other words, a nice detentiony sort of task, although I'd be doing it anyway. Really do pay attention and concentrate until we're done, please."

"All right," Harry said. "But then?"

"Well, then you'll be on your own time, won't you?" she said. "You might decide to stop for a chat, or just leave, but the detention will be over. I do hope very much you _will_ stop, but can't demand it. So, what do you know about fanged geraniums?"

They worked together to create a 'properly Death Eatery sort of effect,' and then to see to it that the lighting would both suit the plants and set up a sense of theatre, moving a rather grim looking mirror framed with screaming faces to send light into one dark corner and to terrify at the same time.

"There," Bilia said, very pleased. "All very horrible and scary. Now, bring your hands over here and I'll teach you how to get venomous prickles out of yourself and we'll get those hands washed and some ointment on, and then the detention's over and I'll be having tea up in my husband's office. He's out," she added. 

"Oh good," said Harry, relieved. "Er... sorry."

"Well, yes, he did guess you'd both be at one another's throats by now," she said with a smile. "He didn't say what the detention was for, only that there was one, so we can talk about why you think he set it, while I put ointment on if you like."

"You'll only agree with him."

"It's your side of the story I'll be getting first, so that's a rather damning start, isn't it?" said Bilia. "I mean, if your side of the story means I agree instantly that a detention was entirely warranted."

He went red. "I was arguing with Ron about something," he said.

"Well, let's get those things out of your hands first, and then _once_ you're being mended, we'll see what you end up thinking when you've talked it out."

By the time Harry had washed the excess ointment from his hands, he'd agreed that the episode merited a loss of points, but he did not think it merited an actual detention, and nor did Bilia. They went upstairs, to find tea and sandwiches laid out, and a treacle tart, which made Harry's eyes widen.

"That absolutely has to be a peace offering," said Bilia. "I don't particularly care for treacle tart at all, and Severus arranged tea and sandwiches. He's very much constrained, Harry, in what he can do if there's _any_ chance that eyes and ears are watching, so you get little gestures like this. Meanwhile, you've had an actual detention that would satisfy anyone as being the sort of thing Professor Snape _would_ make you do, and now here we are in private, under everybody's nose."

Harry blinked.

"Team Harry isn't necessarily team everyone else," said Bilia. "Severus wants the Dark Lord very, very dead and you're apparently the way that's going to happen, so there is an alliance there, but, as with Sirius, I see it as my duty to steer you into looking out for your own interests as well. I mean, we can all see the Dark Lord fall together, and you can limp off broken and twisted, or we can try to not actually be monsters and have clean consciences about _how_ we helped you get the business done. Now, my allegiance is perfectly clear, I'm on team Severus before anything else, but that makes you an important ally, and I do try to look out for my allies. This is part of that."

"Oh," said Harry. He was so young to be carrying the weight he did, just another teenager, trying to be adult and important, hands rubbing on school robes, eyes darting between Bilia and the food. His face had gone very pink.

"And Severus is trying his best to _not_ be vile, but he is a Death Eater and then old habits die hard. There are years of suspicion and mistrust. So he's given you a detention for what we both agree are spurious reasons, picking on the first excuse he has, and now here we are, and there's a treacle tart. Is that a pudding you like?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Hence, peace offering. Let's eat, I'm really rather hungry."

Harry ate with her, showing better manners than she had expected, actually following her example, and they ended being comfortably full, drinking very, very good tea.

"His own personal blend," she told Harry. "It's a message to me. He makes this tea when he's inconveniencing me and plans to make it up. On the other hand, there is one pot between the two of us, so it's the same sort of message to you, that he's taken pains and realises that you might be peeved. If he doesn't care at all, you get the same tea you drink at breakfast."

"Right," said Harry. He didn't look enlightened so much as one trying to fit a five gallon idea into a five pint brain. Not _entirely_ stupid. Not quite.

"Well, this is what he's like," said Bilia with a smile. "So, the real reason you're here, since we know there has to be one..."

"It's the book, isn't it?" Suddenly all sign of witlessness was gone, although since teen belligerence replaced it, that wasn't really an improvement.

Bilia could be kind. "I'm afraid so. He isn't doing this to be nasty, Harry, please believe me. In fact, he's staying out of this, because he knows he's given you precious little reason to trust him over the years. He's asked me to handle it. So, if you act like a belligerent arse in your next lesson, and give him reason to give you a detention, you'll be up here doing something or other, and after that we'll take a look at it, you and I, and I'll explain some things about it to you. I'll also take you on again for Remedial Potions, if you wish it. If not, then just keep your head down and behave, and no detention will happen and you can carry on as you are. One lesson, he's not expecting sainthood."

Harry snorted, especially at the crude language, and then said "Do you really mean it?"

Bilia smiled. "Yes, Harry. I'm rather careful, always, to say precisely what I mean. Magical wars don't engender trust, so I try to always be a pleasant influence. I mean, all sorts of small silly things do matter ever so much. Decorating his classroom so that it's scary but also interesting. Seeing to it you do gain something useful out of our lessons, although this one was more Remedial Herbology. It wasn't just time wasted on silly plants, they all come up in your exam. Severus is going to need vast quantities of trust, and he's a very difficult man to like."

Harry snorted at this. He didn't laugh outright, that was something.

"That and he's still the Dark Lord's right hand man, you can't exactly be seen together chatting," she said, watching derision change to a deep focus. "I'm hoping that, once the war is over, while the body's still warm, we can invite you and Sirius over to dinner and you'll both come. If you get a really _good_ treacle tart, get me a sample so I can try to copy the recipe. So... that's everything. You're clean, comfortable, fed, my work's done and I've passed on a message and a course of action you can take, but don't have to."

"What do you know about the book?" he asked, for a wonder not being rude. He'd learned that it got him nowhere. He seemed to be actually listening, even.

"That I'll understand everything written in it and be able to explain," said Bilia, openly pleasd with him. "Bear in mind, I haven't seen the thing, but I do know it's a Potions book. I mean, the offering to teach Remedial Potions does follow along somehow. I said I would, but that was his idea."

"I'd like to," said Harry. "I mean... it's easier with you." He was bright red even admitting that. Bilia's reward for tens of hours of very, very patiently breaking down obvious concepts and wracking her brains to find way to make the work interesting. 

"Well, seeing the book is an excuse to have to teach it, then, isn't it?" said Bilia with a smile. "If not, something else will come up. I'll work on it but it might take some time. _Why_ that book would form an excuse for a Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching assistant to start teaching you Remedial Potions, I have no idea, but he is really quite keen, Harry. Which makes me really quite keen as well. Anyway, do as you think best, and I'll see you when I do. Go on now, it's late. Shut both doors on your way out, I don't need to deal with Filch right now."

"Right. See you." 

"Love to Hedwig."

"Yeah."

Within two days, he was back in the classroom, and they both copied a very complicated diagram to the board, then set up a projector, and this time there was no arguing. They both went up the stairs.

Bilia mentally added another purple counter, as Harry took out the book before they'd even sat down. 

"Food first, although do nip and wash your hands again," she told him. 

He ran off and came back, sitting down, now eyeing the book as though it might bite.

"Ginger cake," Bilia said, apportioning slices. "Not elf-made either, Severus baked this. It's my favourite when the weather's cold and wet and I've been out foraging, which is where I was from first thing this morning until it got dark. So, in other words, this is all entirely to your benefit and now it's me that needs buttering up." She ate sandwiches first, with various potted foods inside, or cheese and chutney.

Only one they were both fed did she clear the table and talk him through opening a book cursed with a dangerous spell.

It was, unfortunately, fascinating, so they went through various volumes and countered difference sorts of fascination, until one did something.  
Now it looked a great deal less appealing. Just a scruffy schoolbook.

"This went missing on the day Severus left Slytherin House as a student for good," said Bilia. "This is information I've gained, that if it mentions the Half-Blood Prince, it's his old textbook. And it does, so it is."

Harry was very, very surprised, and then not. He was almost the purple of a beetroot, something Bilia wasn't going to comment on, but it was easy to read behind the lines - he'd liked the Half-Blood Prince, even admired him, and now he'd found out who it was...

Bilia focused on the book itself, sitting on the table, full of dreadful potential. "It has an absolutely perfect recipe for the Draught of Living Death, one Severus had to recreate from scratch for his Potions mastery, but he was very attached to this book and it never left school with him. He thought a Death Eater had taken it. Anyway, Slughorn was suddenly raving about your being a Potions genius, and... honestly, you could be if you decided to put in the work, you do have the spark of talent," she said, noting the jerk of surprise in her peripheral vision. "Then Hermione was arguing about a book. Then Slughorn raved about a bezoar which pretty much clinched it, so he became less hedgy and a lot more definite. This is the book in which he formulated all his ideas as a Potions Master and as a Death Eater."

Harry pushed it across. "I don't want it."

"Good, but let's still go over whatever is inside, because first of all he doesn't mind you getting the good recipes as long as you understand the actual principles, and we do need to keep cover against Slughorn's suddenly wondering why a detention with him leads to your being... good but ordinary." 

She was glad to see that idea take. Harry knew all about hiding things. He was motivated already, quite beyond the auror post he coveted. "Second, you should know what spells he taught to other Death Eaters that are still out there. Avery and Mulciber and whoever they taught. Thirdly, it's a very good Defence Against the Dark Arts exercise, coming across a mixture of useful and dangerous knowledge. Now you'll forever know when a book is a little bit _too_ interesting, and, Harry, Severus did not put that spell there. This was his book of dark secrets that he hid from everyone. He isn't asking how or where you got it either."

"Slughorn gave it to me." Harry fiddled with the tablecloth, eyes on the carefully-not-forbidden text.

"Well, let's not assume Slughorn is on Team Harry," said Bilia, easily pushing that suspicion along. "That doesn't mean he's on Team Dark Lord either, he might just have wanted you to be very good at Potions without any of the actual work, or thought you'd find parts of it helpful. Anyway, I do want to look because it's an insight into Severus's past, and he doesn't exactly chat about those times."

They went over it together. Harry had no idea why those ingredients worked, so they were going to compare a simpler potion with the beans treated in different ways, and he was going to learn all he could about them first. The stirring would be another potion. About an hour and a half. They sorted out when and how Harry would be a snot, at the end of a lesson, so that it didn't get in the way of actually vital teaching.

More and more dark purple counters, as Harry learned a little ahead of his actual lessons, and stopped being so completely besotted by the book. Harry had a copy of _1001 Magical Plants and Fungi_ with a fascination spell on it he had to try to break instead, hidden under the cover of the old book.

Other than that, they had little to do with one another. Bilia was busy making sure that, even with no income, they wouldn't go hungry, and then that they would be warmly clothed and the house would not catch fire, and Severus wanted her for meetings with Narcissa while they sorted out a Dark Arts curriculum that Severus could teach half of during his current job. One that Narcissa would move onto _should_ the side of light fall and Lord Voldemort win.

"All behind the Dark Lord's back, but if he did find out, he will not be displeased that we are making plans for his victory," Severus told Narcissa over tea and home-baked scones. "You will not find it an easy task, but both Lucius and I agreed that it would get you out of the house and allow you to be closer to Draco, without in any way harming the Dark Lord's cause."

It was a good enough excuse, anyway, and even if she let them down, the talks helped Severus clarify in his own mind what exactly it was he was teaching his students just now.

Every other day brought news of a loss on the side of the light, every week the boarding up of some business. And yet, for the Snapes, life was about housework and teaching and, for Bilia, the occasional dinner party. For Severus, his morning exercise with Sirius Black.

"How does that go?" Bilia wanted to know, over one of her frequent afternoon visits. "Your fights with dear Severus?"

Sirius looked actually healthy. His hair had a shine to it, his skin and eyes were clear. The wine he bought was mostly drunk by others, his at-home a haven, his clothes actually new, with a French touch to the design, not the old suits he wore to Order meetings. He drank tea, and he actually sat down to talk, not pacing about from table to window and back again. His laugh was less of a half-strangled bark. 

He stopped laughing, leaning forward on the very polished table. "Your husband is a very nasty piece of work," he said, lifting a cup.

"Isn't he?" Bilia said, touched.

Sirius laughed again, gulped some tea and put the elegant little cup back on its delicate saucer. If they were both playing at manners, it did no harm. "He's good," he admitted to a butter knife, turning it so the polished silver shone. He put it down, talking to his tea cup. "If I didn't know..."

"But you do. And you will, I hope, be able to fool his... colleagues in the heat of the moment. He's no good to me with pieces missing, Sirius," she told him seriously.

Sirius recovered from a bout of near-hysterical laughter, and gave Bilia an assessing look. "No, I don't suppose he is," he agreed. "We don't exactly talk. Doesn't he tell you?"

"Not in flattering terms, Sirius, no," Bilia admitted, all but setting Sirius off again. "And then I say well you can always stop, and he gives me this _look_..." She smiled at Sirius, who was very much enjoying the joke. "Then we talk over the spells involved, and that's all. I wanted your side of things."

"It'll work," said Sirius, the laughter dropped. "Do you know... when?"

"No." Bilia sighed. "No, I don't, he doesn't. His place is at the school, watching over Draco, who... I'm not involved in that, in any way. Something to do with furniture-mending, and nothing very immediate. Now," she said, sitting up and pulling out her notebook. "Christmas is coming sooner than you might like, and if you don't take a firm hold of things, you know exactly how it will go."

Sirius dropped his hungry look in exchange for being somewhat hunted, and settled down to his duties as a host, treating every Order member but the Snapes as a problem to be solved, which was just the mindset she was trying to cultivate.

Arriving home at the same time as an owl with a meeting time for Felicity Bright took away Bilia's warm and comfortable feeling of smug superiority. It was no wonder their seer kept herself apart behind stout defenses and let her clients go home only with notes. The insights were always uncanny, unsettling, disturbing to the peace, and accurate enough that they'd be fools to discount them.

Bilia collected the items Felicity had seen, no doubt in the crystal, left Severus a note and went to collect the news, returning in time to find Severus making flour into a roux, a white apron over his dark clothes, his hair in dire need of a wash.

"What news?" he asked.

"The grim is no harbinger of death and her sister will need good winter clothing," Bilia said with a sigh. "I mean, we do need to know that the duelling is not sheer idiocy. And then... there's a piece on the board we're overlooking. So now we have to go over each and every one, both sides."

Severus stirred in stock and cleaned up the small mess that remained, with an economy of motion she still found deeply attractive, and he held her hands in his which was also very nice. His hands were very fine and neat. "After dinner," he told her, his voice warm velvet to cover her unwanted thoughts. "I have an article I want to read..."

"I am going to indulge in the worst romantic fiction and put this dratted war out of my mind for a while," Bilia promised, letting his hands go. She glanced up at his face, and bustled off, for another quiet evening together.

It was disquieting that they couldn't later work out what it was they'd been overlooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've learned how to delete drafts that accidentally end up saved as extra chapters, and didn't break things after all, so that's a relief. Thank you so much for your comments! Every single one brings such a smile to my face. I hope I can give you more of what you want.


	16. Not Every Fight Has To Be a Battle to the Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the present moves away from the remembered future, the Snapes can start using the pieces they've saved to collect future victories.

Bilia and Severus took time off when they could. December arrived with its hidden patches of magical winter, so they played ridiculous games in the snow, drinking spiced hot chocolate in an igloo, then making love while buried in a mountain of furs. It was teenagery, and ridiculous, and nothing either of them had ever done. So was flying home on brooms afterwards, tasting frost in the air, sneaking their brooms inside away from muggle eyes. This stolen playtime meant that Severus wasn't available all weekend, but Dumbledore was barely in the school anyway.

Harry went to number twelve, Grimmauld Place for Christmas, which meant lots of parties with Order members and occasionally different Weasleys. Bilia was sometimes a smiling guest chattering her own clichés and on her best behaviour, dressed in finery the Weasleys could not afford and being forgiving of shortcomings in the exact way calculated to produce shame.

Harry knew that Bilia knew where Sirius was vanishing off to early in the morning, and tackled her over it, when she came over to be in the house because Sirius was going to be busy and away. She was there this morning, as every other, so that she could send a patronus charm to fetch him while Harry covered for him, should someone drop by.

"Where is he?" Harry said, the words bursting out almost as soon as they were in the dining room that allowed for frank discussion and let Kreacher show off his skills in cooking. Bilia had only just handed off her gear, and the tea wasn't even on the table. At least the door was closed.

"Physically, I don't know," said Bilia. "What he's doing... I'm afraid that's his right as an adult," she told him sadly. "He's allowed to have some parts of his life that are entirely his, but I do trust him, that he's not off sneaking about learning to be a Death Eater or something. He's not doing anything to harm you."

"But you do know?"

"Yes, and I think it's a very good idea," she said with a smile. "You'll know one day. Now, I've never mentioned to Sirius anything about that book, or Remedial Potions, although they're not obviously a secret, well, not from Sirius, but it's your right to say and not mine, do you see? I don't go blabbing about your business to others. Not even to Sirius, although he's my good friend and your godfather. I don't tell people what you're up to, so that you have _some_ privacy. So... what would you like to do? We could work on Defence Against the Dark Arts." 

Tea arrived with its own music of chimes and tinkles, and the mince pies that the season demanded every British witch or wizard eat. These ones had little pastry stars as lids. 

"Really?" Harry said, taking the arrival of food entirely for granted. 

Bilia looked away from the silver tray of shining hospitality with some regret. "Yes. We'll start with wand care and then get some duelling in while no one's looking, but only, Harry, only if you follow instructions exactly and don't improvise, because one mark on you and Sirius will forbid this. If you're entirely whole, he's likely to be persuaded it's a good idea, do you see? He won't trust me if I hand you back damaged."

Harry was eager to comply, leading her to a sitting room that had, at least, been wallpapered, then used as a general living area in ways that led to scorch marks and stains and a need to carefully arrange throws over portions of the furniture.

In a fairly open piece of floor that looked as though it might be used for motorcycle maintenance on a rectangular cloth that wasn't _quite_ as large as it should be, Bilia showed Harry that she was not remotely a witch to be trifled with, while preventing him from coming to harm.

She used the spells that Severus had taught her, the Disarming Charm, the Leg-Locker Curse, the Stunning Spell, the Tripping Hex, and her own shields that took magic from the air, and that she didn't explain. "A lot of practice, and knowing it will work," was the only hint she gave.

The bout was very short, followed finally by fresh tea and perhaps warmed pies and little dots of brandy butter.

"Why don't you fight?" Harry asked rudely. "I mean... You know how."

"If anyone gets hint I can, Harry, anyone at all, then I'll be pulled to the wrong side before you can say Death Eater's wife, or killed as a blood-traitor. Then, too, real fighting is not at _all_ the same as practice, and Severus does not want me to get a taste for it. He needs someone he can come home to, who has not seen horrors and who can listen."

"But... one day, you'll be there, won't you?"

"One day. I'm a surprise that Severus is saying, so tell no one, not even your friends, not even the Weasleys. I mean, your godfather of course. We'll need his permission before we ever do anything like this again."

Sirius came back and galloped straight off to a shower, coming back in his favourite plum-coloured suit, his hair awry from drying.

"Sirius, can I duel with Mrs Snape?"

"Harry's own idea," Bilia said. "We tried one another, nothing Severus would not like, and I wouldn't see him come to harm."

Sirius kissed her cheek. "That's a brilliant idea," he said. He paused, considering the options open to him, since it was unlikely he was actually thinking about wallpaper.

"I asked Harry to let nobody know I could even _be_ a wand in battle," Bilia said. "Unfortunately it's likely to be the last thing I do in this life if I even try, or so the tea leaves say."

"Hermione says Divination is rubbish," Harry said. 

"Unreliable," Bilia said. "It won't stop me doing the right thing. Just now the right thing is to bide my time and be a housewife. Who else trains Harry? You have been getting him ready?"

"Please, Sirius," Harry begged.

"We'll do something," Sirius promised.

* * *

Severus was not actually in a foul mood, nor was he stinking of brimstone when Bilia returned. He looked up from a regency romance that was destined to survive for centuries yet to come, and gave Bilia a warm smile that she'd learned to love. "How is the house of horrors?" he asked, very cordial, putting the book aside and losing Bilia's place.

Bilia closed the sitting-room door with one hand, brushing down her inside robes with a wave of her hand with the other. "No one there but ourselves. Piggy is eager to prove himself in battle. I am training him in secret, as we agreed. I don't know if he _will_ hide it.

"I do not trust my life to the discretion of students," Severus said in a withering tone. "The Dark Lord will be satisfied with my explanation."

"Piggy is asking why I do not fight. Bad omens aren't enough, but they're both satisfied with a surprise being kept for later."

"If the Dark Lord is destined to kill him, then the two will have to meet, and you might well end up instrumental in setting the right time and place."

"Best of husbands," Bilia said, pleased, going over and finding her place in the book and slipping in a bookmark. "And the other one? Blood-red?"

"Should he find out, then, well, _obviously_ the Chosen One needs whatever help he can get, or why else would I be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Severus said, pleased with his own cleverness.

"I'll make sure Piggy has the countercurse to your cutting spell. If you're sure about using it..."

"It's lethal and nasty enough to excuse not using the Killing Curse, and fine enough that I, _we_ can cause a close miss and risk merely taking off small pieces. The mutt already learned it, but make sure he hasn't forgotten. Perhaps..." Severus rubbed his lips. "Perhaps a practical lesson if we can work out how to steer them both." Malice held his full interest and delight, and made his face glitter with evil.

Bilia kissed his cheek. "They get bored and very silly, so I am sure we can manage it," she said, entirely pleased with him. "As soon as you think he's ready."

"They won't stop being complete idiots but it will not be your fault, or mine, if they crash into some fresh disaster."

And that was the other side of him. Malicious, yes, but keeping their allies safe, no matter how much they despised them. The other side had the more obvious monsters and the more irritating habits, as Bilia reminded herself all too often.

* * *

Harry learned the countercurse with full, rapt attention, at the cost of a permanent scar down Sirius's middle, about ten horrified seconds after he learned how easily he could have been led into killing someone. He'd wanted to learn the Half-Blood Prince's most powerful curse, knew there was a counter and Sirius had all but egged him on, whether out of reckless curiosity or a calculated lack of self-regard, Bilia didn't know. Certainly she hadn't had to goad Harry at all. Harry got the counter down before Bilia had to step in, and dealt with it all with dittany, and it was a grim lesson, but he wouldn't soon forget it.

On the whole, he learned other spells for actual fighting, for different tasks as though each fight was a recipe or play. Disarming was _always_ a sensible second move. The sensible _first_ move was to dodge out of the way, since Harry wasn't going to countenance running away entirely. There were spells for hitting someone harmless, if they were at a height, without killing them through the fall, spells for knocking someone down, for slowing them... Harry knew lots of the spells of old, but not in the context of actual fights to the death. Bilia had instructions, and followed them, and so did Harry.

He soaked it up like a sponge, and helped Bilia deal with the aftermath of painful memories. Then there would be another party that he and Sirius had to turn up to and be cheerful and festive. Bilia was watching Harry unfold a social personality that wasn't entirely made out of sulks, wariness and drummed-in politenesss.

No one made sure that Harry had his homework actually done. Bilia had asked him to go through all his other notes for his N.E.W.T.s subjects and see what could be useful in a fight to the death _and_ count as revision for his exam. Harmless seeming spells he could blindside someone with, potions he could have on him, ready. Even plants he could use to form an ambush by setting a fight up just so out in the wilderness, or grab as a weapon in a fight in the greenhouses - or trip someone up into. Or plants he might have to rescue allies from, that too.

She met with Sirius on that quiet morning after Harry had been seen onto the train, and they sat and worried together over January sandwiches of potted beef, sitting on armchairs in the sitting room that was due yet another overhaul. "If he fails, Severus is determined that it is not going to be his fault," she said at last, causing Sirius to look up from his brooding.

"No, we've got that," Sirius said. The silence stretched between them, full of words left unsaid.

"Well, it's you he'll be coming back to, this Easter," Bilia said at last, picking up a brisk mood and putting down her cup. "Let's not get into a mope when there are things we _can_ be doing to make sure he's comfortable."

"Like a lamb," she told Severus later. "And then the Easter holidays will be cancelled because of the war and it won't be us he's railing at, will it?"

His returning smile was so evil that it was, to Bilia, utterly adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still :D at every comment! I hope you enjoy this. It's a lot shorter than yesterday's, which was a lot longer than I realised. I think there's a half-a-dozen chapters left but I am absolutely awful at judging these things. The next time I will absolutely, definitely divide a work into proper chapters before posting the first.


	17. Bright Light Upon Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With dark purple counters outnumbering blood-red, the Snapes can make some decisive moves to try to score a win out of the endgame.

Remedial Potions had never been officially endorsed, but nobody was objecting or even seemed to realise that Harry was meeting secretly with Bilia every single week. Just about every other week was the result of a spat and a plausible detention, but even the Greasy Git didn't give as many detentions as Harry would have needed for these little moments of adult discussion mixed with thoughtful tutoring.

Death Eaters were slaughtering parents, grandparents, neighbours and adult friends of families at the school. Each incident had to be chewed over at yet another Order meeting, with Sirius their calming influence and host. A general pall of despair was settling in, and every meeting contained accusations that Severus was up to no good and hiding things. 

Severus wasn't out slaughtering anyone, and was more often at Malfoy Manor strolling around the grounds with Lucius or Narcissa than he was in conference with Lord Voldemort. 

Quite often he did not go close to the house at all. When he did, he had to change his clothes and shower as soon as he came back, or go down the brick-built stairs to his laboratory and raise some other, different stink.

The future was pressing like a weight, the war a third party to their marriage that had to be thrown out each time by an act of will. There were a lot of things they'd never tried, a lot of ingredients to go and gather, and the books about an entirely different world where the most pressing issue was the wrong colour of dress, or a distressing tendency to root-rot in otherwise prize specimens, or asfoetida being an overlooked flavouring that they later decided was overlooked for a very good reason.

Harry Potter was growing up. His essays were still scrawled, but he was picking up on salient points, and Severus was somewhat bitter that it was training the fatted Christmas pig to do parlour tricks. 

Harry went over each week's Potions lesson with some advice from the Half-Blood Prince and some from Bilia. True to his carefully guided promises, he left Draco Malfoy to his own devices. He was concentrating on Quidditch and training in secret with his own particular friends. More this time than the last. Grief had not hollowed out his cheeks and his mind seemed to be entirely his own. Whatever rows might or might not be going on at the Gryffindor dinner table, Harry was polite when he came to see Bilia on whichever evening Severus had decided would be convenient.

Every meeting in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom began with a perusal of his secret map and ended with a small meal from the Hogwarts kitchen. Bilia never pressed to learn Harry's secrets unless he was silly enough to show them on his face, and the worries he did let go were all relatively sensible, or entirely down to his being sixteen and famous, a known hero that was growing into his features. 

Bilia was hoping for trust, and realised she had won that little game-within-a-game when Harry actually came to her one day, with a knotty little problem he'd been given.

"Get a memory from Slughorn?" Bilia repeated.

Harry pushed aside his crumby plate and nodded. Behind him, an acromantula crouched on its poster designed to make students consider how much they actually wanted to bother Severus outside of lessons; for his office hours as Head of Slytherin, he went downstairs to his old room, and he was there now, doing pastoral work. 

"I take it I am not to consult Severus," she said to him, meeting his eyes. Very, very green. 

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

"All right then. Let us consider that you and Horace are not the best of friends. A safe assumption?"

Harry nodded. "He's all right."

"He gave you a book with a fascination curse on it. Speaking of which, how are you doing with that?"

"I got it off," Harry said, wary rather than pleased with himself. Being at war was extracting a visible toll this week, although everything said he trusted Bilia and was likely wondering what the next useful lesson would be.

"Excellent, very well done. So, friendly fireside chats like this one, are they something you would consider with Professor Slughorn?"

Harry grimaced and shook his head. 

"No, and the Headmaster will know this, I should think. We can assume that Horace was lured here somehow..."

"Um."

"Do tell?"

Harry shrugged, embarrassed, so Bilia poured them both more tea and stacked the plates. "Go on," she said.

"Dumbledore took me to see him..." The whole story came out.

"I see," said Bilia. "You were the bait."

Harry nodded, not liking it.

"And the Headmaster gave you no warning? He just sprang it on you?"

Harry nodded, rather reluctantly.

"Words, Harry."

"He didn't tell me what was going to happen."

"Nor why."

"No."

"But now, he tells you he needs a memory. For this memory, if we sit and think, we realise that he has moved Severus to his current post, getting him out of the way, even though in June some calamity will befall his most trusted spy. This means we are in the endgame. It's an absurdity to have you chat it out of him, so think. Has anyone given you anything that, when you think about it, might be useful to get someone giving you a memory they don't want to share?"

"Um... that book?"

"Except we've been through it fairly thoroughly. Slughorn did not mean for you to study - if anything, that book was a sabotage, because it made it all very easy. Your knowledge of potions has been sabotaged from the get-go."

"Felix Felicis!" Harry said triumphantly.

"Not so loud, we're in a school full of people. Yes, that would definitely work. However did you come up with that one?"

"Felix Felicis was the prize," said Harry.

"What prize?"

"In our first Potions lesson. Slughorn offered it as a prize to whoever won, and I couldn't find my book so he gave me that one."

"So the means to get the memory from Professor Slughorn was, by astonishing coincidence and skulduggery, handed to you by Professor Slughorn?" said Bilia curiously.

"No, that's stupid," Harry agreed.

"Agreed, but that does seem to have been what happened, and yes, it would work very well indeed. What other tools? Odd things or hints about the man or blackmail material or, well, anything?"

"That's the only one I can think of."

"Given it takes half a year to brew, it's an odd thing to offer as a prize," said Bilia. "You know that I made some ridiculously expensive goblets for your godfather?"

Harry nodded. "They're really nice," he said.

"I'm glad. Actually, he said you'd love them, he was really pleased. Anyway, I made a handsome profit, because expensive as the materials were, there's rather a lot of skilled workmanship as well, so I was suddenly wealthier than I'd ever been in my life. Being married, I pooled it with Severus, just as he's pooled his salary with me all these years, and _he_ was suddenly wealthier than he's ever been. So, rather a good chunk of that went towards brewing a batch of Felix Felicis, in a hope it will get Severus through whatever crisis ends his teaching career without his ruining any plans to take down the Dark Lord, or ruining himself as a person."

Teenagers often didn't credit adults with any sense whatsoever, so it was interesting to see that she had Harry's full-hearted approval on this. "Good," he said. Then blinked in surprise at his own words.

"I'm glad you aren't letting his railing get to you, Harry. The thing is, it is ridiculously expensive and takes a very long time to brew, and you can't move it around, so you need to keep on going back to the thing. So, it's rather an odd thing, don't you see, for a professor who has been in hiding for a year to be offering as a prize for a bog-standard potion from your textbook. I mean, they're expensive as hell to brew, the amount it must have cost him to buy would be astronomical."

"But he brewed it," Harry said. "It was in a cauldron." 

"So, for six months while he was in hiding, terrified the Dark Lord would hunt him down, moving from house to house, he was _also_ nipping back to a secret laboratory for half an hour at a time three times a day, to give his Felix Felicis a stir? And then, lured to the safety of the school, he decided at once, this would make an excellent prize for Harry Potter's N.E.W.T.s lesson? And then, _entirely by coincidence_ , you lost your book and ended up with Severus's book? So, he all but gave you Felix Felicis out of the goodness of his heart? And then it happens to be exactly what you need to get the memory. Something doesn't smell right, but, I don't see any way of knowing what is going on. Anyway, yes, it'll work. Choose your day carefully so you can get the full effects, and for goodness sake, know _all_ about it before you do. Not because it's not safe, but because you might be able to get lots of good, useful lucky things done. Not during a Quidditch match."

"No, he said," Harry said, all signs of intelligent thought vanishing at the mention of Quidditch. He looked as though he was waiting out another stupid adult and knew better.

Bilia didn't slap him and rather admired her husband's deep reserves of unsuspected patience. She cast about for ways to gather back Harry's focus. "On the other hand, if you want to sneak out and, say, visit your parents' graves or get hold of some rare thing, or if you want to get one step closer to destroying the Dark Lord, or _something_ that's very dear to your heart, then pick whatever day makes that easiest and the time that gets you out of sight, and a few useful things so the potion isn't doing _all_ the work, and absolutely have at it. Also, have a look what happens when you split doses. I can't do all your work for you and it does come up in the exam. So that's your war homework for the day, I suppose. Anything else?"

"No," Harry said. "Thanks. I'll go and get on with it."

"All right. If you're struggling to focus on a book, set a fascination curse, it's good practice."

Harry grinned and nodded, then left, leaving Bilia to clean up and head off to go and meet Severus, when he finally came home, at the gaming board.

One more counter taken from Team Green that was blood-red, one more added that was dark purple. Harry Potter was more or less theirs.

Of course, they'd picked up blood-red counters when Severus had agreed to follow the stupid plan that, the last time, had led to an ignomious death, but they were trying very hard to wriggle out of it. Being told by Harry what the fuck was going on could only help for the next time round, because things weren't looking all that good for them both right now. The legend of the Saviour of the Wizarding World rising from the dead and defeating the Dark Lord after all was obvious wishful thinking. The more they learned, the worse the future looked.

* * *

On one of her frequent visits to keep Sirius's spirits up, Bilia took her usual walk around the block while entirely invisible, sending magic ahead and around as a scout, picking up hints. She found an unexpected ally. Well, supposedly.

"Not a Death Eater," she said, in a pleasant tone.

"What are you doing around here?" Alastor's voice, and she could make out his cloth-shielded presence as a gap in air she could have used for something.

"The same as you, I sincerely hope," she told him. "There's no need to leave enemies in peace and comfortable, reporting on our comings and goings. There's a party this evening. I'm an invited guest."

"Are you now?"

"Don't be tiresome," she chided him. "Of course I am, and it won't be the first time. Do please stop taking your various irritations and worries out on allies, and save it for those bloodthirsty monsters who actually do bad things. Voluntarily," she added, with something of a sad note. "I'll finish my round and see you when I do."

He was silent, and so was she, moving away and sending her scouting magic out. It did look as though her advice to stop letting Voldemort's spies be so comfortable had actually been heeded.

She beamed at the door and knocked, just so. It was barely raining, thankfully. Her robes were dark blue, almost like a muggle long coat. Her hat held nodding snowdrops, entirely artificial. A bluetit came into sight, while gold and bronze patterns spread over her robes, which became steadily less coatlike, even while Sirius watched the transformation complete itself.

"Very nice," he said.

She beamed. "Isn't it? If I can't be beautiful, I might as well be stylish. May I come in?"

"Be my guest." He kissed her cheeks, and stood aside as she presented a basket to Kreacher, who bowed and took it.

"There," she said, as the door closed. "Is that a golden brazier?" She moved forward to inspect it, an elongated crown of gold on gilded wrought iron legs, holding coals like rubies, and giving off heat, opposite the one truly ugly note in a well-appointed room. "No smell," she realised. "I mean, nothing nice either."

"Oh, no. We were supposed to have narcissi but Tonks fell over the display," said Sirius. "It doesn't smell bad, does it?" 

"No, but it's lacking. I assume she's only just arrived? There's no Death Eaters about, only Mr Moody hiding under an invisibility cloak."

"Half an hour or so ago, but she was the last guest to arrive. You're actually a little late." He looked worried, rather than censurious.

"Severus had need of me," she said, not assuaging his worry at all. "You are a very darling man, Sirius, to worry so over a man you do not all like, for my sake."

"He's growing on me," Sirius confessed. "Someone who marries you can't be all bad."

She smiled, and it was a dreadful smile, but she was happy. "I do so love him," she told Sirius, and took his arm to be led upstairs, to where spring flowers lied about the season and to a well-lit room, with a wooden floor, a rug, a few flower arrangements giving sweet scent, another brazier that Bilia did not at all like, and no people, but for one witch who they almost walked into, so close was she to the door. 

"Hello Mrs Snape," said Tonks, who had only given Bilia trouble once over her choice of epithet. "Nice togs. Very posh."

"Aren't they?" she beamed. "Acromantula silk so they're practical as well."

"Really?" said Tonks, who was mousy and plain and wearing a very muggle punk-rocker's outfit, complete with chains. She peered at the cloth and actually poked at it. 

"Severus actually checked," Bilia said, amused. "The gold is not real gold, the entire thing becomes a muggle raincoat and skirt and blouse. Now do, please, tell me about your own clothes, they look absolutely fascinating."

"Oh, yeah, well... I was on patrol and came straight in from work,' Tonks told her, lying all the while.

"Did you not choose these yourself then?"

"Oh, well, yeah, I did... it's punk. It's a muggle thing."

"How thrilling! They have things to colour hair you know, I've seen them. Do the clothes _mean_ something? What makes it punk?"

"It's just clothes," Tonks shrugged. "Where's Remus?" This to Sirius.

"Upstairs," said Sirius. "Still. Unless he's quietly sloped off without telling me. We're not locked in." He led the way from this antechamber to the next room where the main party was, so that all was suddenly light and noise and heat and glitter, with Dobby all but running forward to offer a golden tray of crystal glasses.

"Dobby! How diligent! And what an adorable waistcoat," she told him, admiring the gold embroidery down the front. She took the glass.

"Mrs Snape is being very kind, ma'am. Dobby must circulate!" and he went padding off on socked feet. Red on one foot, bright turquoise on the other, and yellow shorts.

"Mrs Snape!" said Emmeline Vance, drawing general notice. A conversation between Kingsley and Sturgis stopped abruptly.

Elphias Doge, dressed, in fact, in lilac like his playing piece, came up. "You brush up very nicely," he told her.

"You have such lovely manners," she told him, and kissed his cheek. "You're keeping well, I hope?"

"Middling, just middling," he told her.

"Emmeline, do tell me all about those birds, they're a delight." 

"They're from India," she said, showing off her gold-and-garnet earings to be admired. "Have a listen." 

Bilia did, and could just make out sweet singing when Emmeline held them, which stopped when she let go.

"How's Harry?" asked Kingsley, upright in spreading robes, so that he towered somewhat, forcing Bilia to look up at him. He'd taken the champagne, not the elderflower cordial.

"What a very strange greeting," she told him.

"You must have seen him."

"I'm not a spy sent to watch over him and report to you," she said with a smile. "Are you keeping well?"

"Well enough."

"He's fine," said Sirius, causing just a touch of concern. "What, I'm not allowed to keep in contact with my own godson now? I know what James would have wanted, Kingsley, never think otherwise, and don't go creeping around behind my back trying to keep us apart. His seventeenth birthday can't come soon enough."

"Speaking of which, Dumbledore will be dead by then, so what are we all going to do?" Bilia asked, enjoying the shocked looks. "Don't tell me he hasn't any of you? It's rather obvious he's dying."

"Perhaps not the right mood for the party," said Sirius, who wasn't shocked at all.

"Oh, I do apologise. Never mind then. So, what wonderful things has Kreacher managed for us all to eat?"

"He's really dying?" said Emmeline, not wanting to believe.

"Withering curse," said Sirius. "I thought everyone knew. He's really not told anyone?"

"I thought he'd have brought it up at one of the meetings that Severus and I weren't invited to attend," said Bilia, seeming a little upset. "I was just concerned because time is marching on rather. I suppose nothing stops us all meeting here as we used to?"

"Not unless I'm dead," said Sirius. "Here, try these, they're crab."

"Thank you. You're such a thoughtful host," Bilia said, and took a mouthful, appreciating the canape. 

"He's dying?" said Sturgis, upset.

"Severus says so, and he's somewhat of an expert on these things," said Bilia sadly. "Unfortunately."

"He is," said Sirius. "I went abroad and looked into it. You might as well all know I've been going out whenever I feel like it. I'm not being a prisoner in my own house, it's ridiculous. He's losing his marbles."

"Say that to his face," said Kingsley.

"No, that would be beyond cruel," said Bilia. "Poor man. He shouldn't ever know. He'll know his own time is very short. He wants Severus to finish him off."

"He wants what?" said Sturgis.

"He wants Severus to murder him in order to convince the Dark Lord he's a good and loyal Death Eater, but really there's no need and Severus has murdered _quite_ enough people, namely that poor muggle he needed to kill to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces. You might remember? Severus certainly does."

"You shouldn't be telling us Order secrets," Kingsley said.

"I shan't bring things up to you again then," said Bilia. "Anyway, that's the latest bombshell, and Sirius, you would have been upset if I'd held onto that and smiled and gone home."

"True enough. I want to know what he's teaching Harry in secret if he's gone insane," said Sirius. 

"Well, I'm sure I can't tell you, and nor can Severus," said Bilia. "Poor child, people do put so much onto his shoulders, don't they? I remember being sixteen and thinking I knew how the world worked, and looking back, I was rather clueless about everything. You'll be glad to know Severus is teaching all he can and it seems to be going well."

"You can't know he's dying," said Sturgis, upset. "He's Dumbledore, he'll think of something."

"What did Severus say?" asked Sirius.

Bilia sighed, collecting her audience around her, collecting a second glass of elderflower fizz. "I don't have his delivery, but more or less, that the curse seems to have gone straight to his brain because he's now asking Severus to use the Killing Curse on him to stop Bellatrix and Fenris Greybeard torturing him to death, which gives rather an ugly picture to the planned activities at the end of the year. Severus is rather alarmed at the idea of allowing Death Eaters - _other_ Death Eaters I suppose - to run willy-nilly about the school, but most especially Fenris, so he's asked me to seek counsel from the rest of you. What's up with Remus, Sirius?"

"Cowardice," said Sirius with some amused sympathy, taking a new glass of champagne and setting down the old. "He's avoiding Tonks and I don't blame him. I won't throw him to the lions. He can soak in a hot bath as long as he likes."

"This is rather drastic news," said Kingsley, worrying.

"Albus wouldn't... he must have some plan," said Elphias, very much upset.

"He must, but I'm not having him make Severus more of a murderer than he already is," said Bilia firmly. "He's gone too far this time, and I am going to assume that Severus is correct, that the curse has wormed its way invisibly up the middle of his arm and begun to curdle his brain. My husband's place was assured by the handing over of the prophecy, without blood really being spilled other than his own near-mortal wound, and he does not resent that sacrifice at all. I do love Severus, very much." She drank from her glass, watching them.

"He's letting Fenris Greybeard into Hogwarts?" Sirius asked. "With Harry?" A sharp, anxious note.

"Well, that's the implication," said Bilia. "Otherwise, why would Severus need to kill him before Bellatrix and Fenris Greybeard torture him? I told Severus, some secrets aren't actually healthy to keep and when one has you becoming snappish at your own dear wife, it's become a poison that needs to be purged, and that we all _are_ loyal to the cause and he should extend some trust. And then it all came out and I realised, this isn't a burden I can bear alone any more than he could. I am sorry about the nice party, Sirius, but..."

"No, it's fine," said Sirius. "So... what now?" He looked around at all of them. "I mean, we do still need to put down Voldemort, that's a given."

"Severus won't be murdering Professor Dumbledore but is rather afraid to tell him that to his face," said Bilia. "You saw how upset he was about the prophecy, and _that_ was merely making the best of rather difficult circumstances and not killing himself and his own dear wife and, of course, being around to carry out Professor Dumbledore's _other_ plans he'd already explicitly made. This is an outright refusal to obey, but Severus is concerned that, rather than it being a disarming act, _this_ time Professor Dumbledore has actually gone mad. It wouldn't be the first time. Which books did you dig into, Sirius?"

"I went and saw some Healers in Germany to ask about it," said Sirius. He saw a movement in the corner of the room. "That's the signal for dinner. We should go and eat and then we can talk. I went all out," he added to Bilia, offering his arm.

"I'm so glad. Let's put it aside for an hour or so then, it's just been such a shock." She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, pulled herself together and moved along with him while the dinner gong shimmered a summons that made every room sound softly with golden notes.

Downstairs was a large, formal display of wealth, sapphires and gold, the general theme that several of them had picked up on, the theme being _The Promise of the End of Winter_ , a good theme for a difficult point in the war. Vanilla flowers and honey-scented blooms, crocuses and snowdrops of course. No narcissi here, but Bilia thought she detected orange blossom. Birds sang and hopped about on bare branches floating overhead, and once they sat down, soufflés appeared, so that all was formal manners. No one was present who couldn't behave themselves at a formal dinner, no matter how tense things became.

The talk was all weather and music, Quidditch in the European league, observations from nature, of which Bilia was the main expert, although Remus slipped into the room, looking more or less presentable in borrowed clothes, and held forth on what he had seen while he was out and about. Even as he was describing the first bumblebees, Tonks came in, sitting in the one remaining seat that was as far away as possible without both sitting at either end. She was thwarted, and actually upset, clashing with the mood, only not knocking over her goblet because of the weight. 

Eventually, the table was cleared. None of them were actually stuffed full, even after seven courses.

"That was a nice break. Thank you all of you," said Sirius. "Especially those of you who brought ingredients or helped with the decorations. I suppose, now, the fun is over."

"All this time, you've been going out under our noses," said Kingsley. "Disobeying Dumbledore."

"Well, look at it from my point of view," said Sirius. "The excuses for why I can't spend time with Harry have been getting thinner and thinner, and so have the reasons why I have to be inside the entire time." 

Kingsley nodded, acknowledging a hit. "He really has gone insane?" he asked Bilia.

Tonks and Remus were wide-eyed, but said nothing. The news did break Tonks out of her lovesick sulk, at least.

"Severus thinks so," said Bilia, after this glance around the table. She drank from her golden goblet. Just water, now. "I've other doubts to add to that idea, but can't share them without breaking confidences. All we have, really, are those orders, and... it's breaking him. He can't do it. He's still cut up about the muggle and that was over a year ago. To kill Professor Dumbledore, and with a Killing Curse... his work is very ugly, we all know that, and I could kick Mr Moody sometimes for suggesting he takes any sort of joy in it, I really could. He does not. The plan on _both_ sides very much is that Severus will end up Headmaster of Hogwarts, which rather means Professor Dumbledore has given up on saving the Ministry, doesn't it?" She looked at Kingsley.

Kingsley hesitated, then looked down, refusing to answer.

"Severus will do his best to seem compliant without harming students or hurting the cause," said Bilia. "We've made plans together. He's passed on all that he can find out that is useful, as you all know."

"We can't fault him for information," said Sirius. "You wouldn't be here otherwise, Emmeline."

"No, I know," said Emmeline, now a permanent houseguest. "I believe you, Mrs Snape, I really do, this is just a shock. I mean, what _do_ we do now?"

"The question is, how frightened of him are we?" said Bilia. "Can we do the right thing, even if he stops wanting us to? We can't just assume he's a good person any more. We have to look to our own sense of right and wrong. Severus..." She sighed. "He's afraid. Terribly. He can't tell what is good and merely convoluted, and what is twisted. His own morals are rather battered by his spy work, and goodness knows I do my best..." She took a breath and dabbed her eyes. "So, I'm coming to all of you, now, tonight."

"You missed something, Moony," Sirius said. "Dumbledore's not going to live to see Harry's seventeenth birthday, apparently, and from what I could find out, she's right."

"Severus is right," said Bilia. "He's the expert and he's also the one providing the potions that keep Professor Dumbledore upright and coherent. I mean... we do have to get him through to the end of the school year, don't we? Only... what did he mean about Bellatrix and Fenris Greyback torturing him?"

"It's not necessarily at the school," said Kingsley.

Bilia shook her head. "It does rather have to be," she said. "They don't move in the same social circles, and this house is under the Fidelius Charm and very, very well protected even if it wasn't. That only leaves Hogwarts."

"Or Hogsmeade." 

Bilia thought about it. "That suggests a general large raid, in which case, why name names?" she said. "Severus, by the way, knows only that Draco Malfoy is working on a plan, the Dark Lord's direct orders, and so far Malfoy feels he has it well enough in hand. His schoolwork is up to date and he hasn't needed supplies, he's just busy somewhere in the school outside of lessons, and Severus is under orders to leave him to get on with it. He's checked, and Draco Malfoy is an occlumens, he isn't giving it away by thinking about it. Bellatrix knows something, and so does Narcissa. Bellatrix is excited by it, or so I gather, and Narcissa very much afraid for her son. I mean, he's young to be taken into the ranks. So we have that, and Severus being told by Professor Dumbledore to not interfere, and then those names... that's all I know. I'm not prying into his secret meetings with Harry."

"Harry's being taught a history of Voldemort's life from when he was a schoolkid himself, Tom Riddle," said Sirius. "All about his mum and dad, and when Dumbledore handed him his school letter in an orphanage. He told Harry that the prophecy only matters because Voldemort believes in it."

"That's inconsistent, don't you think?" said Bilia. "Well, think about it all of you."

"If it doesn't matter, then Harry doesn't need any secret training," said Emmeline who, thankfully, had taken Severus seriously when he turned up in Death-Eater garb, took off his mask and told her "I can stall for approximately a minute, no longer."

"Either must die at the hand of the other," said Sturgis. He looked to Sirius, his current benefactor. "What do you think?"

"I think he's hedging his bets, and I _think_ he's a danger to Harry," said Sirius. "Harry doesn't need to be the Chosen One, he doesn't need all this pressure from above. I _know_ there's something very important Harry isn't telling me, something very, very secret."

"I don't think we have to act right now," said Kingsley, with all due gravitas.

"He must know what he's doing," said Elphias, worried. His apple cheeks were red after half a dozen different sorts of wine. He took another drink, putting the goblet back down with rather a pleasant sound.

"You know him best," said Bilia. "You'd spot small changes the rest of us would not."

Elphias looked down at the table, shoulders hunched. "War changes things," he said unhappily.

"Poor, dear Elphias," said Bilia. "I'm so sorry, especially breaking news in that way. I did think you all must have known. You've always been the best of men, and I've hurt you."

"It's all right," he said. "Is he... is it true?"

"I'm afraid so," said Sirius. 

"I'll look into it," said Kingsley. "Another confirmation couldn't hurt." General nods responded to this idea.

"What about Harry?" asked Sirius. "There's no point dragging him to Privet Drive all over again."

"He's supposed to remain until he's seventeen," said Kingsley, his eyes shuttered.

"Well, now let's all have a good look at what a stupid idea that actually is," said Sirius. "Harry told me they share the same blood, Voldemort made a point of showing the protections don't work any more, so it's been so much bunkum since then. It's all about making sure Harry can't find anything out or spend time with me. Why?"

"Well, you are rather reckless," said Tonks. "Well, that's what I was told," she added defensively. "You'll take Harry out for fun, Moody said."

"Hardly," said Sirius, although he grimaced. "Fine, perhaps when Harry was a third year I might have done, but this is war." He took a drink and put the goblet down, sending points of light around so that Bilia blinked.

"What about the Dursleys?" asked Emmeline.

"Hestia's looking after them," said Sirius. "I asked, because we all know what Harry's like. He'll worry."

"He's a very kind, compassionate boy outside of Hogwarts," said Bilia.

"Oh?" said Tonks. "What's he like in?"

"Sixteen," said Bilia with a smile. "Not actually dreadful. Well, not for the age he actually is. He's far from being the worst. Shall we focus on his safety rather than his manners?"

"I'll have a word with him," said Sirius.

"Oh, heavens no!" said Bilia. "No, Sirius, I am _not_ running around telling tales. Severus is quite capable of giving him a set-down when it's warranted, and he doesn't need it twice."

"Are you able to get in and out of the school?" Kingsley asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I haven't tried. We're using enchanted mirrors to chat."

Kingsley nodded. "Still... you did manage to get inside before."

"Moony, you had the map, did you close off those passages?"

Remus shrank back, with a gentle smile. "I'm sure Dumbledore has it all in hand," he said.

"So, no then."

"If he was using existing ways in, he wouldn't need Draco Malfoy," said Bilia. "That's what Severus thinks. Once he's Headmaster, he'll want to know about security holes, in case he needs to smuggle students out to safety, or turn a selected blind eye." 

Emmeline smiled. "I'm sure he'll take very good care of the students," she said, repaying all of Bilia's carefully calculated kindnesses.

"Taking care of Harry is proving rather difficult, and we can only do so much without Harry's permission," said Bilia. "I really don't think he should go back to his relatives. They aren't teaching him to be kind, and if Sirius says the blood protections are entirely moot, I believe him." 

"Wasn't your husband there?" asked Kingsley.

Bilia glanced up at a singing wren, and back at the rest of them. "He was delayed," she said. "At that point, he was where the Dark Lord and of course Professor Dumbledore had placed him, waiting inside Hogwarts, so by the time he went along, it was only the Dark Lord, Nagini and Wormtail. He reported to the Headmaster, of course, first thing the next morning, after a nice hot bath and a good long scrub down, since no _immediate_ mayhem seemed to be afoot, and tried his best to wriggle out of having to go back to being a Death Eater. Call it cowardice if you must, but he did _not_ want to step back into that life, at all. We've both been more than up front about why he does as he does."

"You have," said Emmeline. "This arrangement of people, it isn't an accident, is it?"

Bilia frowned, and shook her head. "It's not my party and not my timing," she said. "Perhaps Severus finally let me in because he knew that if I was looking forward to it quite so much, then no one.... taxing was going to be there."

"I do my best," said Sirius. "I've got a shindig with Fred and George planned for tomorrow, to let my hair down a bit, and Tonks of course, and Hestia... _fun_ people."

Bilia laughed, a cackle, and put a hand over her mouth. "Dancing, I assume."

"Muggle music, the louder the better."

Bilia winced. 

"Muggles can have good tunes," Tonks said at once.

"Oh, I know. I'm not impressed by the Wierd Sisters either, but that's precisely why I'm not invited," said Bilia. "I'm sure it will be fun, Sirius, even with all this hanging over us. Harry, then..."

"He comes here." Sirius looked at all of them.

Remus looked away, unhappy.

Kingsley considered matters. "All right," he said at last.

Elphias fiddled with a napkin. "Can't we just do as Albus says?"

"Not any more, Elphias, I'm sorry," said Sirius. "Harry's safe here. You know he is. None of us would betray him."

Bilia looked at Sturgis and at Sirius. "Even if, under the Imperius Curse, we would, the house won't," she said. "I assume there are all sorts of lovely surprises that none of us have any idea about?"

Sirius grinned. "One or two," he said. "It keeps my brain sharp. Polyjuice then, it can look like the Dursleys are picking him up from the train like usual, and we'll need a car... it might as well be a flying car, since it can be enchanted to be invisible. A few changes and we can just drop him off outside."

"If there's a second car, that could be a decoy," said Bilia. "Change over at a motorway services. I can't participate, sadly, but I can do what I can to help with whatever I actually can do? And then if I don't know other details, I can't possibly hand them on, and there are a great many roads about. I'll keep turning up to meetings as and when Severus is called to them, and Sirius, I'll see you this weekend, with some cakes. I'm baking to cheer myself up and it does all have to go somewhere, preferrably not onto my hips. I'll see you then."

"I'll see you out," said Sirius, and escorted her to the door, leaving a buzz of conversation behind them both.


	18. We Clear the Field and Scatter Rubble on the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft words and real, practical actions have made their mark on their allies. Now the Snapes need to consolidate their control of one side of the board

Bilia kissed Severus, all over his vile face, pushing back his greasy hair to kiss his forehead, and snuggling into him. They were in their dark brown bedroom, under a furry blanket even bigger than the bed. The beetles on the mantelpiece were thriving under heat lamps, and a low fire cast red light, while silver lamps gave warm light from golden flames.

Severus pushed into her and held her close, just holding on.

"It's done," she told him. "I've neutralised the Order as an enemy force."

He began slowly grinding his hips, moving her until she rolled her eyes, and then, very expertly, he worked in silence until she shuddered and he stopped.

"Severus..." Bilia held on. "Nice..."

"Very." He kissed her. "I want to think."

Bilia rolled away and pulled out vials from the bedside table, which they drank, before settling down.

"I do wish we had an elf," she said. "Then we could just have tea, without going down to a freezing cold kitchen."

"We could just keep the fires going."

Bilia thought about it. "No," she said. "We might need to start again from scratch. I love you, that was nice."

"I love you too. So, what was the general mood?"

She settle down with him, leaning on his bare chest, which was lean and muscled, with scars she traced and kissed. "You taste of fresh sweat. It's lovely," she told him. "Elphias is torn. Not hiding something, but it made sense. He's very upset and dealing with it—"

"General."

"Oh, yes, sorry. I..." She breathed a while, even as deft hands brushed her hair, making more sex seem wonderfully attractive. "I don't know. Split. Shocked. And then only the tractable ones were present, since I won't turn up to a dinner if there are going to be bad manners and Sirius has learned that. It was a spectacle and a half."

"I think we should go downstairs, and see to the board," he said. "I'm not going back to sleep now."

"No, I don't suppose we are. But _then_ can we have sex?"

"I'm not sure I'm properly in the mood, love."

Bilia nodded unhappily, and stroked his face. "I love you. Let's get on with it then. If this is punishment for waking you up with cold feet..."

He smirked. "It can be."

She smiled at him, and kissed his chest, then pulled herself out of bed. "At least we can wear real fur, and be properly warm," she sighed. "I'll put the kettle on, you get the board ready."

Severus took a look at his beetles, and dropped a mealworm in to where one glistening black segmented beast was turning over leaf litter. It leapt onto it with savage jaws large enough to overlap its face, and shook it like a dog. Severus dropped in two more, and tempted a rather pretty green round one with a small offering, waving it in front of its face.

Their pets seen to, they dressed and went down, plating up hot toasted sandwiches and setting scones to bake and the very last of the winter chestnuts to roast. 

Their dining room needed no more than a wiping down with a waxy rag and a few quick charms before they set out the obsidian board and it coloured glass and wooden pieces.

"Team Black now has two," she said. "Not Green, he's not around, but this one has thrown in her lot with him." She moved one of the pale yellow, minor pieces, one with an ivory bead on it that she vanished. It was set on the black square, outlined in grey, that represented number twelve, Grimmauld place. She changed the colour of this piece, representing Emmeline Vance, to black, adding a purple counter and removing all the black ones, since she was no longer influenced by Team Sirius; she was _on_ Team Sirius. Team Black. "Oddly enough, after she woke up looking into your mask right there in her supposedly secure bedroom, she's gone off the idea of going home."

"Her home could be used for storage," said Severus, touching the yellow square that represented what had been her home. "Nothing that Death Eaters could really use. Food and bandages and maps."

"Or taken apart and put back together again as a safehouse," said Bilia. "Pink still isn't volunteering her parents to the cause. She was at the party."

"She has table manners? I never would have guessed."

"She does. Then, too, so long as Team Black support the scruffy brown one, she needs them."

"You're sure about this one." He tapped the now-black piece that represented Emmeline Vance.

"Quite sure. She isn't an occlumens and I shocked her greatly, so she was giving herself away all evening. We can take one pink counter from Scruffy Brown, he hid in a bath until dinner."

"Do we interfere? I'd rather set them _both_ on fire."

"Not unless our own silver piece says we should. How is she?"

"Grateful," said Severus.

Bilia looked at him for a while, then contemplated the newest piece, sitting in its own silver square, with a line to their own square and one to an empty blue square that represented the sister and nephew of Felicity Bright, their not-at-all-tame Seer. "Good," she said. "What kindnesses can we do?"

Severus looked at the squares as well, and made two new pieces, one large, one small, both blue, and put it in the orange square, with counters of a silver and purple design, and changed their new pieces to match, so now there was a Team Silver-and-Purple. "Her nephew will live," he said. "Food parcels, news, the usual."

"Green and white? Should we put them together?"

Severus looked at the board and put a line in between the large white square, St Mungo's, and Silver-and-Purple, the very hidden house of Felicity Bright. "It can't hurt."

"She kept her job then, that's good to know. Team Black is ours, Team Green is all his own, not sharing a great secret. He's shared some... Team Gold wishes to lead in Blood-red's place, although for now he's being diplomatic..." She placed gold counters where he'd had an effect. "That would be the one we overlooked. His agenda is murky, but he isn't shouting anyone down. Black's secured the Piggy's place in his... their own square." She turned the pale yellow square black. "You know..."

"Keep it yellow until it's something other than an abandoned home known to Death Eaters."

Bilia turned it back. "Team Yellow looks after Piggy's relatives." All the minor, unconsidered Order members with no clear, definite expertise or role.

"All of them?"

"Only this one that I know. Black told us. Team Wood was prowling about outside before the event, he might have seen the dinner become a meeting."

"Very well. Black's looking healthier." 

"In person too. He's also told people he comes and goes as he pleases, and again, wasn't shouted down. Gold objected, but didn't push the point. Not enough for a counter."

"You haven't removed blood-red counters."

"No, let me think... One away from everyone but lilac... his hold is tenuous. They're entertaining the idea. Oh, Team Black's stopped actively hating you, love, in case that matters at all."

Severus thought about it. "Not really. I still need him alive," he said. "What is the endgame?"

"Headmaster of Hogwarts, supported on all sides without question, and, well, we look after all the little nuisances as best we can. When the Death Eaters in Azkaban become respectable again, so will I."

He kissed her temple. "Then... with that aim in mind, try to have me invited to a secret meeting to share all I know."

"One meeting of the Order behind his back... I'm working on it, love. No one there is actually suspicious of your motives, Team Wood does not influence their thinking in the slightest."

"What would you have me do?"

"Treat him as an ally, even if it bites you in the arse." 

"I'll make a batch of Feel-Good Fizz for you to take along."

"Oh! Yes, that will be a good thing to do. I'll send a message along at ten.... no, make it eleven. Tonight's a shindig, all the fun people dancing to loud muggle music."

Severus shuddered.

Bilia smiled. "I know. The main thing is, they're happy and not too badly under Blood-red's thumb. So... nothing new until Blood-red tells you little Piggy has to die."

"I look forward to sharing that exact quote."

"That's our deadline then, for gathering a controlling interest on that side of the board. The main thing is that threats are now individual. Team Orange are the most dangerous. I'm not sure how much those two are still in it." She tapped the indentical orange pieces joined with string.

"Use Team Black to gauge their intents and loyalties." 

"It's rather difficult, but I'll do my best. An evening of board games and home made biscuits and fruit tea fizzes and butterbeer, the next time Silver-purple says it's going to rain for a week straight or go below zero for more than a day."

"Look after her for me? And her relatives."

"Make sure I'd be welcome to first and I will, love. I think that's all of note."

"No change from my side of things."

They put the board away and cleaned up, banking the fire and setting things up for breakfast for Bilia alone, going back up to the room and settling in as they had before.

"Hold me," Severus said, and so she did, soothing him, until eventually he slept, waking up to an alarm, pushing her back into bed and going off to go and be a schoolmaster again, once he'd tended to his glistening collection of beetles.

* * *

It was the dreariest of dreary days, with several more promised to follow. Sirius was in disguise, out in the open dressed as a muggle workman, and so was Bilia. Her moustache tickled. Tonks and Emmeline had done the same, transforming themselves into muggle workmen. 

The moustache was just a little too irritating to bear. "Can someone help me with this moustache? Thanks," she said at the quick movement. "So, no one's going to care what we do, so long as we make it clear this is rubble, and after that, we can build it up again from scratch as and when their side is busy. They're looking for signs of occupancy, this is somewhat the opposite." She pulled a box out of a bag of tools. "I brought plenty of these," she said, setting it up.

"Anyone got a cup of tea?" came an unfamiliar voice, giving the password. 

"We should set up a brew," said Bilia, the counterword. "So, we have twelve hours, just about, but if we're sensible, we'll knock off at four or five."

"I have a van full of all sorts," said Sirius, a nice big burly muggle man. They all were. 

"Well, let's get this place taken apart then," said Emmeline.

"We'll be respectful," Bilia promised.

One they were done, all that was left was a brick-lined hole in the ground, and a flat, muddy garden with stone paths and clamps of bricks around, tied down with plastic net and long iron stakes. Gas lines and pipes stuck out of the ground, while temporary fencing made a half-hearted attempt to keep people out. There were a few bushes and a tree, spared from the general despoiling of the place.

Once back, Severus made hot chocolate for all of them, and Emmeline cried, sitting on one of the wooden chairs in the cavelike kitchen.

"I can't believe it's gone," she said, in a gruff, deep voice.

"Well, better that than going to Death Eaters," said Tonks cooly.

"Tonks, that's callous," said Bilia. "That's poor Emmeline's home, of course she's upset."

"Well, it's only temporary," said Tonks. 

"I know, but it was my first home out of school," said Emmeline, still crying. "It took so much work to make it decent and now it's g-gone." She lost herself inside the folds of a conjured silk handkerchief.

"I can only imagine," said Bilia, patting her shoulder with one filthy, calloused hand.

"I would be greatly upset to lose Spinner's End," said Severus, settling down. He looked jolly and comfortable, having chosen a muggle that, were he a wizard, others might trust. "We put so much work into making it somewhere to come back to and relax."

"Oh gosh, so much," said Bilia with a laugh. "Good god... do you remember that first week?"

"Severus, you should know I hate everything about this house," Severus quoted with a smile. "I asked you to spare the books."

"Well, I didn't. But we are comfortable, aren't we?"

"Very," he said fondly, and held her hand. His was rough with calluses.

"Sirius will help you be properly at home here, and Kreacher's rather clever too," said Bilia, patting Emmeline's shoulder again.

Severus pushed her hot chocolate at her. "Rather at our hands than theirs," he said. 

"I know," said Emmeline, wiping her eyes. "That's that then, isn't it? I live here now."

"It's safer," said Severus. "Why you're a particular target, I don't know. If I wasn't routinely gathering information behind the Dark Lord's back, I would only have heard about it after your death, but Rodolphus isn't an occlumens, and he's taken to drinking. Given that his wife wants to cuckold him with the Dark Lord— do you mind?" The remonstrance was mild.

"Cuckold him? You don't mean..." said Sirius, cleaning up the hot chocolate he'd sprayed everywhere.

"Bella is nothing if not ambitious and isn't being subtle, and oddly enough, the Dark Lord is playing along."

"You don't share this at Order meetings," said Sirius, ignoring the fact they were more or less having one. The excuse for this meeting was muddy boots that they couldn't let track mud into the carpet upstairs.

"I'm not encouraged to linger over my reports," said Severus. "You've all been at enough of them to know exactly how they go, and what I am allowed to say and how."

"So... Cousin Bella is, let me get this straight, trying to seduce the Dark Lord?"

"In front of Rodolphus, who doesn't like it, but he's afraid of his own wife. To be fair, she is a monster in human form." He drank his drink. 

"She's a terrible guest too," said Bilia. "Narcissa's absolutely delightful, which is wonderful. No, really, it's just that she thinks that all muggleborns and those who care for muggleborns should be killed, but _apart_ from that, she's very genial and kind, and appreciates good manners as much as I do."

"Yes, apart from that," said Sirius.

"Well, admittedly, it's a very large flaw," Bilia agreed. "Are you feeling better, Emmeline?"

Emmeline nodded. "I'll manage."

"Then lets get washed and changed while we're all in borrowed bodies and go upstairs to wait for the potion to wear off and perhaps nap. It's all set for tonight?"

"More or less. No idea what Fred and George are going to bring, but it'll be lively."

"I want to play that spider game that Ron could not like, it's simple and silly," said Bilia. "Other than that, I'll go with the flow."

"Kreacher. Bring us wash tubs. We can open with it, if you like."

* * *

The classroom was dark, but for a single lamp. Plants made small noises by the windowsill, and Bilia's quill scratched busily.

There was a soft knock, then the door opened, and closed softly.

"Make yourself known," Bilia said quietly.

Harry revealed his face.

"Did you bring the map?" Bilia's voice was still quiet. She put her quill aside.

"Yes," he said, and pulled it out, looking around before muttering and showing it to her.

She looked it over. "Yes, there you are, and there am I, and there's Severus."

"I didn't know he was going to be here!" Harry protested.

"Hush," said Bilia. "No, that's the point. I'll send a signal and then we'll wait until he's gone and talk."

"What are you doing?" Harry was automatically nosy about her work.

"Accounts for the department. Stay there."  
She went and knocked, just so, and came back down the stairs to him. "You understand these?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing makes sense."

"No, you need the right training. It starts with assigning time a monetary value, since there are only so many working hours in a given week. With all the duties he has, if you look at it as an hourly rate, Severus earns very _slightly_ more than the shop assistants do at Flourish and Blotts, something to bear in mind if you decide to become a professor here."

"I want to be an auror."

"I do recall. That was why we dragged your Potions marks up above the ordinary, and it's rather lovely that you're taking care of things yourself. Sirius says you're keeping well, but are you? Really?"

Harry looked at her, and even in lamplight, his eyes were very green. "What's he's been saying?"

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about," she told him. "Not down here, obviously."

"Why isn't it a detention? I mean, he hasn't given me any detentions for...weeks."

"Because you trust your kind and loving godfather more than you trust Severus, for obvious reasons. He's tired of browbeating you. We move into the endgame."

The office door opened, and stayed that way. There was a flare of green light. "Spinner's End," came Severus's voice. The light flared again, then became orange.

"That would be our signal," said Bilia. She put her records away and carried them to the office, taking the lamp with her, signaling for Harry to cover his head again.

Once they were in, sitting at a table with treacle tart and candied nuts and butterbeer and tea and a plate of delicate sandwiches, the door closed, Harry revealed himself entirely. There was a bowl to wash their hands, and they both did, drying them on white towels and floating them out of the way.

"What's this about?" Harry asked.

Bilia looked him over. "So... you know now that Sirius and I are working together."

He nodded.

"Looking out for your interests."

"Yeah." He wasn't being belligerent. Just watchful.

"Well, very recently, to a particular set within the Order who attend dinner parties you would find excruciatingly dull, I dropped a bombshell that Severus dropped on me. You see, he was becoming snappish with me, which he never, ever does, and so I pulled the information from him. The Headmaster wants Severus to kill him."

"You're lying!"

"I wish I were. You've seen his hand?" 

She apparently didn't need to explain whose hand. "Yeah?" Harry said. 

"That's killing him. He'll be dead before you turn seventeen. Severus is brewing potions to keep him alive."

"He's dying?" It was exactly the same face-paling bombshell to Harry that it had been to Sturgis Podmore.

"Is that such a surprise? Think things over."

Harry shook his head. "You-Know-Who cursed the ring, didn't he?"

"We're assuming so, and... Harry, we're very much afraid the curse has reached his brain. We've decided you need to know as much as we do about everything that's going on."

"I thought you were." Now he was wary again, suspicious, but at least those eyes only had Harry looking out of them, and revealed no clue to his actual thoughts. Even his displayed suspicion was mild.

"This one had us all running about for a while, rather upset and scared ourselves, and it isn't something you should hear through a mirror. Can you be very, very quiet when you speak, even as I tell you all of it?"

"Yeah. Can I tell Ron and Hermione?"

"Sorry, but absolutely not. Severus is able to very easily pick up what it is you _are_ telling them merely by watching the Gryffindor table, where he's stopped at all being able to tell what is going on with you. Did you get anywhere with Slughorn?"

"Not yet."

"No Felix Felicis?"

"I want to save it until the end of the year," said Harry, giving her a sideways look.

Bilia opened two bottles of butterbeer and drank from one. "So... you have picked up on something."

"Just, you're saving some...."

"And without being able to trust Severus, and how could you, and knowing Draco Malfoy's up to something, and given that the annual disaster is usually considerate enough to wait until exams..."

"Yeah, you said," said Harry. "It's true though."

"Not something we're relying on, and if something happens before the end of March, we're on our own," said Bilia. "Here's what he said to Severus, and it's close to a direct quote..."

She shared. 

"I don't believe you."

"I believe Severus. Sirius does too, and Kingsley and Tonks and Moony and Emmeline Vance. Elphias doesn't, Elphias Doge... well, he does but he doesn't want it to be true. We _can't_ tell the Weasleys, otherwise it turns into shouting and accusations. Or Mr Moody, for the same reason. The reason I'm telling you, Harry, is in case he asks you to do something that leads to your death, and also to tell you that Severus isn't going to kill the Headmaster. It'll be... difficult. And then we wanted to know if you've seen any signs of his plans being... strange. Contradictory, or damaging."

"He's really dying?"

"He is. Somehow that isn't the surprise it should be."

Harry clutched his bottle and looked around the unappealing office, the acromantula poster and the array of shrunken house-elf heads lately moved from an upstairs room. 

"Severus tells me that in general you've been keeping your head down and getting on with it. Those are from your godfather's house originally, his mother collected them. They're suitably vile, and Kreacher's attached to all of them, so it seems kind to be respectful. He wants to add his own one day. Sirius can't stand the sight of them, and so, compromise."

"Sirius _gave_ them to him?"

"To me, but he has _recently_ said he doesn't actually hate Severus at all, which is a nice step forward. Severus does need your godfather alive and isn't trying to hurt him in any way, and he's been quietly doing a great many things to look out for your interests." All, fortunately, true. 

Harry looked at the table. "Treacle tart," he said.

"Yes, precisely. We gathered these nuts ourselves, back in October. Once the weather's hot, they tend to go stale. The tart's something he baked himself, a peace offering. Shall I try some to show he's not up to anything? He really isn't. Not now, when we all depend on one another."

Harry shook his head and tried a piece, liking it. Bilia took some.

"That was in the recipe we found. He'll bake that again, then, if he needs you to know he's being sincere."

"Snape... baked? For me?"

"His hands are tied. We're trusting you to give no sign at all that there's anything wrong. Professor Dumbledore isn't to be trifled with. It's just... now we're _looking_ , there are subtle signs that he's been slipping for a while, and we're very frightened that he might sabotage his own plans. If you can... have an independent mind and don't _assume_ he's right, think over what he's saying and doing, and check into things. Sirius can get hold of books and I can bring them. One thing that is becoming apparent is that both the Dark Lord and Professor Dumbledore expect the Ministry to fall before September, since both their plans rather hinge on Severus becoming Headmaster then. He won't be letting anyone harm a hair of any student's head, Harry. That's why we need the map, actually."

"He won't use it to bring Death Eaters in?"

"No. Draco Malfoy's working on that. Bellatrix and Narcissa know he has direct orders, you're aware he's up to something, Severus knows he has orders, we have this statement from Professor Dumbledore about Bellatrix and Fenris Greyback which is oddly specific, and then he has not one, but two seers in the school, Harry, which argues that Divination is important to him."

"That's just because Firenze can't go back to the forest."

"Perhaps. I said it argued it, I didn't say it proved anything. What _is_ proven, because Sirius went and checked independently, is that Professor Dumbledore will be dead before July, and he hasn't told any of us or given us time to prepare. Severus as Headmaster, himself dead, you... we don't know at all, although I do have some good news."

"Oh?"

"Well, your going back to Privet Drive is absolutely nonsensical, so you aren't. Professor Dumbledore can't make us and the blood protections became moot when the Dark Lord used your own blood to raise himself. Hestia's looking after your relatives, because, vile as they are, if the Dark Lord kidnapped them, you still might rescue them. That frees up lots of wands to actually fight Death Eaters. I won't be. I don't go into battle. Severus only does when pushed. Has his teaching been useful?"

"Yeah, actually," said Harry. "If you hadn't warned me.... but he even _says_ 'The Dark Lord will be using inferi to spread terror...' All the Slytherins act like that's the best thing ever."

"But you do pay attention."

"Yeah. Yeah... He.... I mean, he isn't being nasty like he was."

"You met him halfway."

Harry nodded. "You said. And Sirius said."

"That's all he needed. He can't favour you, but I'm glad you're not so openly at odds. Now... In September, he'll be Headmaster. Sirius is openly out and about, he doesn't bother hiding it now apart from Mr and Mrs Weasley and Mr Moody and Professor Dumbledore, but everyone else knows he comes and goes as he pleases. Most people realise Severus is very thoroughly on your side, and..." She drank and met his eyes. "Since the Headmaster asked Severus to murder him, it is your side, now, not the Headmaster's. Once upon a time, in fact the day after your mother was killed, the Headmaster bound Severus to your protection, because Severus had said that he would do anything for.... a favour."

"What favour?"

"Saving someone he cared a great deal about, someone on the Headmaster's side of the war, an Order member in fact. It... came to nothing in the end, they died."

"Well, it wasn't my dad, I know that," Harry said with an actual smile.

"No, none of the Marauders," said Bilia, matching his expression. "So, the Headmaster told Severus that the Dark Lord would return, and Severus should be ready. Then he _did_ return, and Severus... tried to wriggle out of it. Not out of protecting you, that was a given, but he didn't want to be a Death Eater again. The Headmaster was adamant, and... well, it saved Emmeline Vance. The thing _is_ , since Severus handed over the rest of the prophecy to the Dark Lord, he can do no wrong in the Dark Lord's eyes, so he doesn't _need_ to murder Professor Dumbledore to stay on the Dark Lord's good side, and he's not going to, but... he's a little scared, actually, to say no right to his face. He asked for time to consider, to work himself up to it, but... he won't do it."

"So... Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenris Greyback will..."

"That's the odd thing. She's... well, she's not to be trifled with, I'll grant, but Dumbledore? Fall to those two?"

"He might if... if he's really dying," Harry pointed out.

"That's true. It just seems rather hard to imagine. Anyway, all I _can_ ask, is that you talk over your concerns with Sirius, which is why I'm telling you, so you can chew it over with him after, and that you keep it secret otherwise, no furtive glances, and that you think very carefully about your plans. If you _have_ plans, we'll go along with them as much as we can."

"If you know when Malfoy's succeeded, will you tell me?"

"Yes, of course. If you find out first, will you?"

"I'll tell Sirius."

"Good enough. We're a team now. Team Harry."

"What about Ron and Hermione?"

"Well... what about them?"

Harry chewed things over, and took some nuts, eating because Bilia was. She was eating the treacle tart, washed down with tea. 

"Hermione will just do whatever Dumbledore says," said Harry. "She won't believe me. She doesn't believe me about Malfoy. Ron... he doesn't either."

"That's odd, because he's not exactly hiding it by what Severus has said. I'm hidden away as you know. What have you seen?"

"Well... he missed Quidditch for a start...."

Various observations came out, including the entire episode, while shopping with a very insistent Mrs Weasley, when he'd seen Draco Malfoy in Borgin and Burkes.

"How would I look carrying that down the street?" said Bilia. "Thats interesting. Something very obvious then."

"That's what Sirius said."

"Large, it would have to be large. Otherwise it can be wrapped in paper."

Harry nodded. "That's what we thought. Me and Sirius. But... Hermione and Ron didn't seem interested."

"That is very, very odd. Unless, of course, they've been told, as Severus was, to keep out of anything he's up to."

"By Dumbledore, do you mean?"

"Perhaps. I was thinking of Mr and Mrs Weasley, actually, but it's possible. What I do know is that they kept you in the dark about things before because the Headmaster asked. Well.... we're not going to interfere with them."

"I didn't... I didn't say I knew because you told me. But... well, I already knew before, but they wouldn't listen."

"Well, Sirius is listening, and we're listening to him," said Bilia. "I think we'll end it there." She handed the map back over.

"You don't want to keep it?"

"No, but Severus will want your help to know ways to get students out of the school safely. Or even in. Not until he's been installed. We'll work with you and leave it in your hands."

"All right."

Bilia watched him go, and tidied things away, and went back to her lonely accounts, before she finally went home.

Severus was sitting reading in a warm and comfortable sitting room, sitting up straight as was his general habit. The book was a novel, rather than anything instructive. He put a bookmark in, and paid attention.

"Well?"

"He liked the treacle tart. He does seem to understand the gesture, but then I did explain it carefully." She gave a tight smile and sat down on the chair, moving it up so they could play footie. "He has noticed a lack of nastiness. The Headmaster being insane isn't all that startling. Him dying is news. He'll talk it over with Sirius. The whole thing put him off his food. We can take counters off, one Orange and one Parchment-Small, and I have more evidence of Silver being important." 

"Oh yes?"

"You recall the inordinate amount of fuss that the Orange cunt made over the shopping trip?" 

"Forgive me, but I found the entire episode a bore."

"I know, and you had other concerns. By sheer coincidence, that very day, Piggy saw the littlest grey piece heading off all alone and followed him...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that follows this one is much darker, but there is no graphic violence. 
> 
> Also, comments, yay!! Totally makes my day every time.


	19. The Bloodier Side of the Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosying up to Death Eaters means having to be a monster, so the Snapes have to get their hands dirty.

Severus and Bilia walked along the crunching gravel of a long driveway towards Malfoy Manor, alongside Narcissa Malfoy, who kept sharing unhappy looks. Still beautiful, still immaculately dressed, she'd lost weight and couldn't quite disguise the shadows under her eyes.

"I will say this, playing host to the Dark Lord is wreaking havoc on your garden," Bilia said.

"Do not ask me for a comment," Severus remarked, his face set.

"It's...." Narcissa looked down. "Is Draco well?"

"Yes. Now and then I pull him up and remind him to eat full meals and get more sleep, or that his marks are suffering, and that he will give himself away if he does not take more care." Severus was a lot warmer in his voice than in his manner. His walk, now, could only be described as a stalk.

"Will it be easier if we just go straight in?" Bilia asked kindly.

"If you don't mind?"

Bilia patted her arm. "Not at all. We're all doing what we can. I am sorry about the garden, Narcissa, it was one of Wizarding Britain's jewels." She embraced Narcissa, and went in.

"If it isn't Mrs Snape... and Severus too..." said Bellatrix, who was lounging against a door, all insanity and filth.

"Bella, what an absolute delight," said Severus. "Run along and let him know I'm here."

"He won't see you, you know. Your favour's dropped. We had a party, Severus, and you weren't invited." She stalked over to Bilia, her high heeled boots clacking on a grimy marble floor. "This isn't your house."

"No, it's your sister's," said Bilia, meeting her eyes, looking up. "Are you going to tell him, or shall I, that you delayed important news because you wanted to play Chief Bitch of the Manor at his expense?"

"Touch her and I'll kill you myself and she can drag the remains behind her," Severus said. "Get out of my sight."

"I'll tell him just what you said."

"Severus, that was positively chivalrous!" said Bilia with open delight, as Bellatrix stalked off. "You see now why I haven't collected as many herbs as you would like."

"I shall inform the Dark Lord, although I doubt he'll take much notice."

"No, I expect he won't."

They stood aside, as people came into the room beyond, then into the marble entrance hall, and out into the drive, or over to the fire. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen. Bellatrix was the last to leave, giving Severus an angry, frightened look. It only became more angry and frightened when Severus returned her look with one of compassion.

In they went, Severus knowing the way. He walked through the main sitting room, not yet turned into the Dark Lord's main dining room, still with its thin facade of normalcy for aurors, and into a back room, through a secret door and down some stairs.

"Severus... and your charming wife." Voldemort was there, and the stink of corruption. Nagini was swallowing down a human corpse, showing only from the knees down.

"My lord." Severus made his genuflection, kissing his lord's hem, and stood back. "You know, of course, that I am the Headmaster's spy." 

"Of course. Does he find you useful?"

"Am I to stand like so much furniture, Severus?" said Bilia, her tone a mild enquiry.

Severus flinched. "My lord..."

Voldemort regarded Bilia.

"I beg your pardon. Am I to stand here like so much furniture, Mr Riddle?"

Severus twitched.

"Do you think your magic a match to mine, Bilia?"

"Are we doing this?" she asked. "Now? When you've so _nearly_ achieved victory? I know Bellatrix is so insane she can no longer manage good manners, but I didn't realise it was infectious." 

He was unreadable, weighing her up with mad, red eyes. "Take a seat, Mrs Snape."

"If you can manage one for Severus too, I'd take that kindly," Bilia said, and sat down on her small stone throne, once she'd made sure it was comfortable. 

"Severus, do take a seat yourself. Where was I?"

"Asking if he finds me useful, my lord, and we both know that in general my main use is as a stick with which to beat his own supporters. His plans still seem to hinge upon my becoming Headmaster, I assume so that his portrait can instruct me."

"How clever. A form of necromancy, do you think?"

"It's not a branch of magic I've explored, my lord."

"Then I shall give you a chance to make up the lack."

"That would take away time he needs to take absolute control of Hogwarts, which of course Severus cannot tell you himself," said Bilia. "I've an objection to the current Headmaster, and if you did not drink mostly blood and venom, would suggest we drink a toast to his demise. Perhaps a year or two from now - his interest in the Dark Arts has not exactly waned."

"It would seem you won't have time," said Voldemort, amused. "So, my spy, double agent..."

"He's asked me to murder him, because otherwise, my lord, he fears that specifically Bellatrix and Fenris Greybeard would torture him."

"Those two."

"Yes, my lord."

"Foresight," said Bilia. "Or a leak. But I suspect foresight."

"Why are you here, Bilia?" Such a gentle question, accompanied by a soft hiss from behind his seat.

"Do please be kind and call me Mrs Snape, although I'll grant you do the name more favours than most can. I'm making sure the endgame goes smoothly for Severus. You know the general fate of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and I'm _attached_ to Severus, and you yourself have plans for him. His being Headmaster sounds useful, but there's this current unpleasantness to get around when Severus tells the Headmaster no, he is not going to kill him." 

"I thought you would be only to pleased to, Severus."

"No, my lord. My spirit absolutely revolts at the idea of become _his_ paid murderer."

"He isn't a murderous person by nature and never was," said Bilia. "You would know him better than anyone else, even me. No one can know the heart of a person as you can. On the other hand, he can kill on command, and has. I can put time into necromancy that Severus can't, if you like?"

"You're joining my service?"

"No, absolutely not. I belong to Severus."

"It seems more as though he belongs to you."

"Well, I am powerful. On the other hand, he is a Death Eater, and you did get hold of him before anybody else. I'm a good and doting wife, I make allowances."

"Did you hear that, Severus? You were mine before anyone's."

"Yes, my lord. I have not forgotten the promises you made."

"Power, I assume," said Bilia. "Access to the Dark Arts, his first true love - it's lucky I'm not jealous, he absolutely _adores_ the Dark Arts. You should hear him speak of them to an audience some time. So, with chaos ahead of us, how do we handle the transition smoothly? I want him safely installed and then I can stop running about making jam to stretch his salary." 

"And gathering potions ingredients. Bellatrix has spoken of you grubbing about in the gardens."

"Yes, she does undermine you at every turn," said Bilia. "Unless the potions that Severus provides are useless to you? I mean, I'm sure I don't mind either way. But we do stray away from the point, how can Severus best serve you, and what, Lord Voldemort, do you really _want_ from his time as Headmaster?"

Voldemort got up and led the way upstairs, to an ordinary study, at least by the lights of a magical manor, wherein he poured the three of them drinks and they sat down on normal chairs, the door closed and the room instructed to hold all secrets to itself. They only had so much air. "Severus, you have married a delight," he told Severus.

"So I have often informed you."

"What do I want... power, my dear. What else?"

"For how long?"

"For all eternity."

Bilia smiled. "Longer than Severus and I will live. Well, probably. So... I assume that no mudbloods will be allowed as students?"

"Yes."

"Have you thought about the uses to which they can be put? Not everyone can get house-elves. Given the miracle you dropped onto Wormtail's stump, shackles aren't difficult, binding each mudblood to absolute obedience to a house. Otherwise, they're an expense and need guards, but this way people will line up to guard them. From a liability to... another set of tools."

"Slaves to purebloods... it's a thought," said Voldemort.

"Slaves to my own students," said Severus. "The younger ones, that is. They can train their own mudblood to be useful, will pay for its transgressions."

"A toad or a cat or an owl or a mudblood?" asked Bilia. She drank a perfectly acceptable brandy.

"I would put them into another category," said Severus. He waited.

Voldemort considered the idea, running his finger round the rim of his glass. The dark brown claw that stood in for a nail overlapped the rim with its pointed end. "I'll consider it."

"If it is to happen, they'll need slave quarters," said Severus. "Or secure posts to chain them to. Probably both. I would like some healthy adult males to use as demonstrations for the Dark Arts lessons Narcissa will be running. We can manage without, or use muggles..."

"What sort of demonstrations?"

"Curses, mostly," said Severus. "Would inferi as a seventh year N.E.W.T.s project be useful, once there are some suitable?"

"Do you know, I've no idea how to make one of those," said Bilia. "It's true, I don't. Severus, the next time there's a dead body that isn't dinner for the lovely Nagini, see if you can bring it over. In a bag, so it doesn't stink or stain the carpet."

"My lord?"

"I don't see why you can't come here to learn," said Voldemort, considering her carefully.

"Bellatrix," said Bilia. "She wants _everyone_ , including Severus, to know that she's your closest, most favoured witch and given licence, and she plays upon Narcissa's role as hostess to run roughshod over any idea of manners. If it were up to her, I would not have seen you. Otherwise, I'd be in and out several times a week and Severus would go back to his research - even your most loyal and effective need ways to unwind."

"Do feel free to teach her a lesson."

"Unfortunately, this is Narcissa's home, and she is Bellatrix's sister. Magic places constraints. And then in my home, I am host. And then I'm not a Death Eater, and Severus rather wants her dead at present, for her rudeness to me. If she could be elsewhere, nothing need disrupt the smooth running of your side of the war."

"Severus, see to it that Bellatrix does not interfere with your visits again."

Severus tilted his head. "Do you need her for anything?"

"Apparently not." He was cruelly amused, his red eyes glinting.

"Bilia, please do go and take Narcissa for a turn about the garden and see where and how it can be repaired."

"Yes, of course, dear husband. Lord Voldemort."

"Bilia." 

She waited by the door, which clicked open, and considered the building for a while, before finding a back stair and going up, knocking on a door. "Narcissa?"

Narcissa came to the door, her eyes red. "Bilia, won't you come in?"

Bilia did. "We're going to take a walk about your garden to see where and how it can be repaired," she said with a smile. "Sooner rather than later."

"Oh. Really?"

"I don't want to argue with two powerful wizards in that sort of mood, Narcissa, so I do rather hope so."

Narcissa nodded and bade Bilia to a seat, and was soon ready to go out walking. The two walked rapidly away, like two housewives going shopping rather than ladies of the manor.

"Things seem to be going well for you to take your place as Dark Arts instructor," Bilia said pleasantly.

"That's good to know," Narcissa said with a thin smile. She looked back over her shoulder and at Bilia, a witch in hell. "Will Draco be all right?" The worry was eating at her thoughts, and for now she was open, concerned wholly with thoughts of her son.

"No, he'll be a Death Eater," said Bilia softly. "He won't come to any particular harm at Hogwarts. Once he's in Death Eater meetings or on raids..."

Narcissa took out a lace handkerchief. "I'm so sorry I couldn't offer you tea," she said.

"We were thinking, Severus and I, and we put it to the Dark Lord himself, why not use mudbloods as chained slaves?" said Bilia. "You know, doing laundry and weeding gardens and so on. The Dark Lord has a facility for magical shackles, I noticed when I saw some magic he did for someone. I'm wondering, as a very well-bred witch of society, what do you think?"

"Mudbloods as... slaves? Like house-elves?"

"More or less, but without the trust and access."

"I suppose that could be acceptable. Why not kill them?"

"Bodies smell terrible, but slaves can manufacture fragrant soap," said Bilia. "Out of disobedient muggleborns if necessary."

Narcissa giggled, and Bilia smiled. 

"We'd better do as my husband asked," she said. "Let's see what needs mending"

"Well... Some people have been practicing fiendfyre in the new greenhouse."

"That's going to be a challenge to fix," said Bilia. "Well, we can note it."

* * *

Severus and Bilia undressed one another and showered, scrubbing each other down, while a bath ran hot. They scattered fragrant salts and sank into the water, while dried flower petals made a yellow path in the pinkish water between them.

"How was it?" Bilia asked.

"Surprisingly satisfying," said Severus, who had sunk down so the water was up to his chin. "Had the Dark Lord wanted me to suck his cock, just then, I would have done. Narcissa will have to arrange the funeral."

"So we turn up, all the Death Eaters are turfed out of a meeting, and then Bellatrix is killed."

"Yes. I did not give her time to realise I was going to. I found her, killed her and took her body down to the usual killing place."

"Nagini's dining room."

"Yes, I suppose so. Why this sudden thirst for corpses?"

"I don't have to." 

Severus considered her for a while.

"I'll be more useful if I understand your passion, love. That and I want to compare new magic to old."

"But mostly the former."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. I heed those instincts. He was careful. Very nearly deferent. That's odd." 

"You frightened him."

"Well, the temptation to rip the magic out that holds him in place is always there," said Bilia. "His instincts are good, he didn't push. He's not alive enough to take that sort of risk."

"Why are you so much more powerful?" asked Severus.

"Magic doesn't work the way your generation thinks it does," said Bilia. "If you know how to ask it nicely, you have access to all the magic in existence, all at once. That's the Dark Lord's level. However, he isn't the Master of Death, so he can only access whatever magic is around during the present. There's something like an inverse cube rule for distance, and niceties involving domains and so on." 

"Will I be able to?"

Bilia considered him. "I should think so, but you'll be almost a squib to begin with, so now isn't really the time," she said. "If we make it alive to a time of peace and plenty, yes."

"That seems more possible than a few months ago."

"I think it helps to be truly unafraid of Death, and to have a strong and willing partner. Satisfying, truly?"

"She's been a thorn in my side since Lucius first sponsored me. You know why. Azkaban only made her worse."

"You killed her to protect me, didn't you?"

"Yes. Do you think it makes a difference?"

"All the difference in the world, Severus."

He settled back, and she did, and they soaked until an alarm went off, and rinsed the salts away, and Bilia did not have chance to get dressed again before Severus was driving her back to the marital bed, all eagerness and want and just enough consideration to get her truly wet before he drove into her again and again hard enough to make the bed crack, not that either of them paid heed.


	20. Silk on One Side of the Door, Death on the Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A general habit of obedience to Severus means that Bilia is left with cleaning up to do, while other people get all the adventure. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. Harry has a strop.

Bilia was sitting quietly in a rather pleasant pale green sitting room, with white lace and muslin curtains that drifted in a breeze, showing white and dark green day-lilies outside that, together with the herb garden beyond, brought in a smell something like clean washing.

Narcissa was sitting upright on a small sofa, paying attention to a small fireplace in which a fire burned, despite the heat of the day. A contraption wafted a fan up and down over a block of ice, and she kept putting her satin-slippered feet into the breeze to cool down.

"Why is it you're not involved in the fight yourself?" Narcissa asked. 

"I'm far more of a housewife than I am anything else," Bilia said with a smile. She drank from a cup of tea and admired a white-haired green-eyed cat that came into the room. "Yours? Or an animagus?"

"A present from Severus, did he not say?"

"No. I did say he should get you something you would want and use and never ask for or buy." 

The cat sniffed at Bilia, then came up to Narcissa, who patted her skirts and accepted a cat on her lap. "If she wasn't so beautiful, I would have refused," she said, and stroked the cat, who threw herself onto her side, making Narcissa relax back, then lay there offering soft, long belly fur and purring when Narcissa's fingers sank into it.

"He pays attention, when he's reminded to," said Bilia. "This is the worst part of being here, the waiting."

"He'll keep Draco safe?"

"He's very much inclined to. Once this is done, our place in the war is all but over. Mine and Severus. Draco has a year off as a student, and Severus... once he's Headmaster, he will not be so easily dislodged. His life is finite, so he's no threat to the Dark Lord. Hogwarts will be a haven."

"What about... Potter?"

"I would leave that subject entirely alone. It isn't healthy."

"No... you aren't worried?"

"He won't kill Draco and he can't touch Severus. If he wins over the Dark Lord, he wins. He's not a threat to _us_ , Narcissa."

"What if he does win?"

"We accept it with good grace. It could go either way, but speculating... not a good idea."

"No." She sighed and clawed gently at her new pet cat, whose purring was soothing.

Bilia put down her tea and summoned a bag full of embroidery, and settled down to work, as the shadows outside lengthened by degrees.

* * *

"Where were you?" Harry demanded, a figure of anger within a school in full mourning. The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom door was flung back, and students, passing, peered in.

Bilia looked at them and at Harry, back and forth.

Harry looked around, finally, then shut the door, even while Bilia moved away to the office.

He followed, his feet making angry stamping sounds on the worn stone, but he did not, this time, burst in. He did glare at an acromantula, which grinned unpleasantly back from its animated poster. 

Bilia shut the door. "I was busy with Narcissa Malfoy," she replied.

"Doing _what_?" He was upset and pleading.

"Embroidery."

Harry stared at her.

Bilia took a breath and let it out. "Severus very rarely puts his foot down," she told him. "He didn't want me here."

"Why not?" His outrage all but blazed from him.

Bilia was unmoved. "Well, to be fair to him, we've never fought together, and I'm not sure I wouldn't have been in the way."

"But.... you're really powerful. Sirius said." Pleading now.

Bilia gave a grave nod, her voice remaining gentle. "That's true. That doesn't mean that I'm useful in pitched battle. I'm hardly going to go on raids to get used to the idea. He didn't want me there, and given the stakes, Harry, and his experience in such matters, I bowed to his expertise and did as he asked."

"I hate him!" Oh how very easily he did.

"He didn't kill the Headmaster," Bilia pointed out, in case reason might, by some miracle, reach behind that angry glare.

"No, but he let Voldemort in. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!" Harry didn't actually stamp his feet.

Bilia looked at him for a long, long time.

"It's just a name! Why is everyone so afraid of it!" Now he was pleading again.

"Names can be used as an anchor to magic," Bilia told him, not moving from her usual role as the island of calm in a sea of chaos. "Not Harry, nor Potter, nor yet Harry Potter, for those names could be on any lips regarding any number of people. There's only one person bearing the Dark Lord's name. It is a talisman and a beacon. Those who don't care about his direct and personal attention and... malice, make use of it. The rest sense the static in the air that could precede a lightning strike. Dark, malicious attention from a dark, malicious wizard. Severus did not let him into the school, Harry. That's a direct lie."

"He didn't stop him!"

"Really, Harry? You're doing this?"

Harry turned around and kicked a wood and leather armchair, rather a comfortable seat, oxblood in colour.

The fire turned green and Severus stepped through.

"Potter," he said politely. "Bilia, if you have a moment--"

"I HATE YOU!" It was nearly a scream. "YOU'RE A—"

Bilia in front of him the next moment, hands either side of his face, thumbs under his eyes. "Occlude," she told him, her eyes wide and looking into his. "Clear your mind, and kick him out, now."

Harry snapped out of it, taking deep shuddering breaths, until she held him. He pushed her roughly away. "That wasn't him," he said. "That was me."

"Well, don't call my husband nasty names," she told him. 

"Bilia, if you have a moment, can you do something about the dead bodies littering the ground about the Astronomy tower? The house-elves find them distressing and everyone else is in shock or deep mourning." Severus ignored Harry, who was taking deep, shuddering breaths and looking at the floor with deep loathing.

Bilia ignored him too. "Yes, of course. Whose are they?"

"Death Eaters, other than that does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not. I'll see to it at once. In this hot weather I can only imagine they'll smell rather dreadful rather quickly. Excuse me, Harry. Harry?"

"What?" Harry snapped out, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes with an angry gesture.

"No name-calling. And no shouting at him in public, it wouldn't be seemly, and obviously he'll make life very unpleasant, his position demands it. Also, very, very well done, in case I don't get a chance to say so." She went out of the door, closing it behind her, and the classroom door as well, to go down to the Astronomy tower, which had an exploded look about it. There was a wide scattering of rubble and twisted corpses.

Looking did not make it any less horrific, so Bilia stepped up to the job. Someone had to.

"You can't go there miss," said an Auror, one of a pair, when Bilia approached at her usual steady pace, her skirts just brushing the bright green grass. 

"Severus sent me," Bilia said. "Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin. He said someone needed to do something about the bodies, the house-elves were finding them distressing. If the house-elves are distressed, none of the students get to eat. It's that or feed a thousand people in the next hour or so from a field-kitchen."

"He sent you?"

"Someone has to. It'll be nice if you can help, actually. We want them decently put in bags, all of them, and no smell of death, and rubble cleared. Do you have bags to put bodies in?"

The aurors looked at each other.

"Well, never mind then," she said, and, without any further ceremony, she put the twisted body of Fenris Greyback into a newly conjured bag, siphoning all residue in with him. She marked the bag 'one', then drew a quick diagram, and went on with her work. 

"Miss..."

"Yes?" Bilia stacked ancient stones into a small pile, and bagged a second figure, pop-eyed and rather awful, adding to her diagram. The bag went to the side of the first.

"Never mind," the auror decided.

Bilia smiled and continued her neat, dreadful task, and smiled up now and then at Corban Yaxley, who had just happened by and who was leaning against fallen stone, watching.

The Death Eaters had control over the school.


	21. Picking up the Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the worst has happened, the Snapes are getting the benefit of all the games they have been playing. Dumbledore's plans get picked apart. Mad-Eye Moody is still not a fan.

It was lunchtime. Bilia sat in her husband's office, eating lunch - mashed potatoes mixed with cheddar cheese and chives and the light green part of spring onions, separated into delicate green hoops. Delicate pink slices of ham surrounded by orange crumb flavoured with saffron. Summer salad of new green leaves and tiny tomato crocuses, and a cucumber sliced and soused in white wine vinegar for an hour. 

She was at a small, round table, set at the far end of the room from the desk, against a wall with a single window high up that let in light but did not let anyone see out of its ancient diamond-shaped panes even if they stood on steps to see through it.

Opposite her was a very simple wooden chair. The ox-blood armchair was tilted against a wall, as much out of the way as it could be.

The door opened. Not Severus, sadly. Mad-Eye Moody, filling the doorway with stench and scowl and creased cloth coat Bilia sincerely hoped was waxed and not simply that filthy. 

She felt her face drop, but managed to recover rapidly. "Hello, Mr Moody. Forgive my not stopping eating but it's been a long day and there's going to be a lot to do."

He stalked over, the door slamming shut behind him. Ever the dramatist, and the thunk, thunk of his wooden leg didn't make him seem less dangerous. It was disappointing that his general stink made a horror of the food, but she did have to eat, and so did her best to waft a breeze away from her and up to the fireplace.

"So, this is where you've been hiding." Bad tempered accusation no different to dozens of tedious meetings.

Bilia swallowed her mouthful. "No, I just came here to eat a quiet lunch. Emphasis on the quiet."

He pulled out the other chair with a loud scraping sound, and sat down, leg out, boxing her in. "I heard you were stacking up bodies, cool as a cucumber."

Bilia ate some cucumber. The ertsatz magical air-conditioner was working well. "Not stacking," she said. "Bagging them and putting them in a line." She went back to the mashed potatoes, and some of the ham.

"Used to bodies, are you?"

"No." She ate a tomato slice, drank water from a crystal goblet. "Like killing people, do you?"

"No."

"But you have killed people, so you must enjoy it, lots and lots, if we're to follow your line of reasoning."

Moody gave her a sour look.

"It wasn't _fun_ , Mr Moody. It did have to be done. Lots of things have to be done. Severus is keeping his Slytherins in line, I'm running around taking care of anything he can't get to until the Deputy Headmistress pulls herself together and gets everyone sent home."

"Where were you, last night?"

"Asleep in bed."

"You're kidding me." His eye went into a frenzy of rolling, until it fastened eventually on her, then flicked away to look at ceiling, stairs, floor, looking ceaselessly for enemies.

"You have no sense of humour I've ever noticed, Mr Moody. I frequently am in bed at night," Bilia said with a very, very studied calm.

"And I suppose Snape was right there with you," Moody all but sneered. Barely this side of polite.

"No, he was helping Professor Dumbledore defend the school from Death Eaters until the Dark Lord came along and it became too unhealthy to stay around. Then he was rounding up students, putting them to bed, taking various head-counts and so on. Do please hush, the house-elves went to a lot of trouble, and I don't want to waste their hard work." 

She ate, while Moody swivelled his eye at her. He followed when she left.

"I'm a professor's assistant, what's your authority for being here?" she asked, when she was down in the classroom. She checked each plantpot in turn, and made notes in the watering schedule.

"Helping out an old, dear friend." 

"Well, go and help out somewhere else. I mean it, shoo," she said, flapping her hands at him, her wand tucked into her belt. "I need to lock up."

He glared at her, and she locked the office door, then the main classroom door, and led him down to a knot of aurors, red-coated figures of authority swapping muttered discussion and looking somewhat worn. One came forward when Bilia approached, having drawn some sort of short straw to have to meet a Member of the Public. He hadn't actually been shoved forward, but there was that hint in the other three that he would have been, had he not stepped up.

"This man's helping out an old, dear friend, but he's also very much in the way, and he isn't a member of staff, a governor, auror or parent," she told all of them, and went off, to go and talk to Argus Filch, leaving Moody to follow her or not.

The front-facing auror came after her, solid boots thumping the stone floor, so Bilia turned to look at him. He was young, rather loose of mouth, with flyaway blond hair. "Sorry, who are you?" he asked. 

"Mrs Snape. Wife of Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and also his classroom assistant. He asked me to look after a few things while he keeps his Slytherins in line."

"Yeah, fine," he said. Moody was talking to the aurors he'd left behind, but Bilia didn't let herself be distracted. With a firm hand, she knocked upon the door, rat-tat-tat.

Filch came to it, a dark and twisted man full of resentment. "What do you wa— oh, hello, Mrs Snape." As much as he ever did straighten, he was doing so, his tone changed to one that was almost respectful.

"Severus is busy, do you mind if I take over his duties for a little while? Just the general rounds and patrols, while he keeps the Slytherins where they all should be."

"You'll want the list." 

"That's exactly what I do want, Mr Filch. Hello, Mrs Norris. No treats today. Thank you very much, I'll go and make a start."

The young auror had gone, reassured by the recognition from Filch, and Moody had apparently been waylaid entirely. Bilia went to work, guiding distraught or dramatising students to places they were supposed to be, and directing a wittering gaggle of Ravenclaw prefects to go and collect mourning crepe so it could be hung in places where Christmas decorations usually went.

* * *

Harry stared at Bilia, coldly hostile, when they met close to Gryffindor's common room, for which she had the location and password. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Insolent child, scared and taking refuge in spitting defiance.

Bilia found him less offputting than Moody and was used to smiling, to soothing with words. "Severus's job. He's keeping the Slytherins in line, I'm making sure there's crepe everywhere, you know, black for mourning. Can you grab me the most senior Gryffindor prefect you can find? I mean a useful one, things do need to happen even while we're all in shock."

"You're not." 

"Don't be nasty, Harry, please," she pleaded with him.

He turned his back and went off, and came back with a familiar witch, resorting now to being a watchful presence in case something went wrong and it might turn out to be his fault if he hadn't stopped it.

Bilia lit up to see a witch she generally had no time for. "Oh, Hermione, how good that it's you. I _promise_ you, Severus is doing his best to keep Slytherin house in line. Now, you know the Christmas decorations?"

"Yes..?" She was confused.

"Well, everywhere those usually go, we need to put up mourning. Black crepe and so on. The same method as usually happens, and as soon as possible so it doesn't look as though we're all pretending nothing happened."

Hermione took a small, brave breath, gave the nod of someone who very much wanted to be thought of as good and valuable and part of a team, and went off.

Bilia gave a satisfied nod. "Harry, now's a good time to look after younger Gryffindor students. They'll be terrified, and you're a very reasurring presence when you want to be, or so I'm told." A long look, meeting his eyes, before she turned her back and went off to see to the Hufflepuffs, who, too, were sensible and glad of something practical to do.

Dinner was a cold collation, with potato croquettes as the only hot food, and cold cut fruit and coconut icecream after, on black tablecloths with silver tableware. The flags were black. Bilia was in black too, sitting where Sinestra had once sat. Sinestra was in St Mungo's, recovering from being in her quarters when the Astronomy tower was blasted apart.

As an added detail to the table decorations, there were lots of handkerchiefs to cry into, many being used, as people sobbed over the tragedy. Slytherin House was solemn, missing a prefect, one who had left with Lord Voldemort's hand upon his shoulder.

The Headmaster's throne was covered by black cloth and had a wreath of lilies set on it, preventing anyone else but Severus settling into place, while looking very respectful.

McGonagall, wearing her usual green, but with a black armband, came too the front, took a breath, and waited for silence to fall, which it did.  
Slytherin students were all attentive to Severus. Bilia had to wonder what he'd done.

"By now, you will all know what tragedy had befallen all of us," she told them all. "I won't deny, it is a terrible, terrible blow."

Some smirks, some glowers, a lot of fresh sobbing.

"Classes, of course, are cancelled. Those who wish to, may send for their parents and leave early, but for the rest, the Hogwarts Express will leave at the usual time and on the usual day. I will ask you all to be respectful and dignified, as we all mourn together. I am told that there will be a funeral in Godric's Hollow, where his family have been traditionally laid to rest."

Bilia covered her face with a black lace handkerchief, wiped her eyes, and looked about, then got to her feet and left when everyone else did. Lots to do.

* * *

"Half the school had already gone home," Severus told her. He was lying half-undressed on the ox-blood coloured sofa in the sitting room, his eyes half-lidded. His trousers and silk underwear were around his ankles, his coat hung up, his shirt still ruched up around his chest, leaving his groin wet and bare, exposing curly black hair. His head was resting on a dark green square cushion.

Clearly she was getting nowhere in distracting Severus from a terrible day. Bilia wiped her mouth and carefully tidied him away again, while, lazily, he let her. "Your Slytherins?"

"The ones who want untrammeled access to the library are staying. Most will go. There's very little mourning for him in that house."

"You?"

He shook his head. "I know I did last time, but... no." He got to his feet and pecked her lips. "Your turn."

"I won't say no," she said with a happy smile, admiring how entirely vile his features were. He looked sleezy and unkempt, and she pulled up her skirts and settled back onto the sofa.

"Minerva had no warning from anyone." His fingers traced her bloomers, pulled them down, revealing another set of underwear only for his eyes, and he played with it, tickling her slightly, before easing the delicate silk lace down as gently as he might ease something volatile into a cauldron. He paused, more practically than romantically, to unboot her too-hot sweaty feet, and take off the cotton bloomers and the scrap of white silk he'd bought her as a token.

She lay back, fingers clutching at her sides as he made love to her right foot, then her left, and finally buried his face between her legs, while she clutched his greasy hair, begging occasionally.

"Oh god," she said, as he finally took her over the edge, without once resorting to using even his fingers.

He looked pleased with himself, lounging back on a sofa cushion. 

"Oh god, Severus."

His hand stroked his cock in lazy movements, and now she was lying lazily with half-open eyes, admiring him. 

His hand still working, he crawled over and went to work again, until there was a splatter over their nice clean floor and she was busy finishing herself off by hand.

Going to bed after that was a chore, and they didn't get back to their gaming board for an entire week after. Either they were both flat-out dealing with the aftermath of Dumbledore's sudden death, or they were at home, never making it upstairs before they tore at one another's clothes. Intense, confused feelings found an outlet in every sort of sex.

Severus, at least as a lover, was gentle, and kind, and finding out he could do anything he liked, so long as he was gentle, and kind. It was like being teenagers, and like falling in love all over again. They leaned on one another at a sombre, drab little funeral, and after he fucked her from behind over the arm of the sofa, then they drank champagne and went unsteadily to bed.

* * *

"Well, he does usually run the Hog's Head Inn," Bilia said at Sirius's kitchen table the next day. The first post-mortem meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, organised by Sirius, with all of them in their usual seats, and the same arrangement, a black cloth and lily wreath, and a goblet of wine put before it. "I'm sure he did the best he could, and it doesn't seem the most prosperous of places."

"He would have had a proper send-off at Hogwarts," said Minerva bitterly. She had a glass of single malt, provided by Sirius.

"Headmasters are never buried at the school," said Severus. "I had a good look to see what was appropriate and usual, before making the arrangements."

"How did you..." Minerva stared.

"Advance notice."

"You mean you knew! You knew and didn't tell anyone?"

"We all knew," said Sirius. "I thought he'd told you. Dumbledore, I mean. May he rest in peace."

"I thought he'd told you, and if he hadn't, I thought Kingsley would," said Severus, glancing at the man. "He asked me to kill him, just when term was starting, or soon after."

"Minerva wouldn't believe there was anything wrong with him," said Kingsley. "I'm sorry, Minerva. No one wanted this, but it was all arranged. He arranged most of it himself."

"Not Death Eaters coming into the school. Not... not You-Know-Who!"

"Well, he knew that Death Eaters were going to arrive and gave me orders to leave Draco Malfoy to it, and then the Dark Lord was just the icing on the cake."

"He couldn't. He wouldn't."

"He could and he did," said Sirius, least affected of all of them, although Severus and Bilia were wan and tired for different reasons than grief. "Severus told-- well, he told Bilia and she came and told us."

"It was rather a problem," said Bilia. "No right answer, so in the end I trusted Severus."

"No student died or was more than slightly injured," said Severus. "Nor any Order member. Meanwhile, we have one injured member of staff who will recover in time, a blasted apart building, which, as Tonks would say, is only stuff."

She went bright red. Although not, Bilia noted, all the way up to the roots of her hair. Bilia made a quick note on the little sheet of cramped letters and numbers set in front of her, in among the squares of the pattern.

"It can be rebuilt, and we can solicit funds to improve the design, and install a small memorial," Severus went on. "I did think you knew, Minerva. I was afraid if I gave so much as a hint, you might break down. I don't know, none of us do, why he allowed the attack to go ahead as it did."

"In the end, we had to try to make the best of things," said Bilia, putting her quill aside. "Severus had me stay with Narcissa Malfoy to keep her company, and then go to bed at the usual time at home."

"Narcissa Malfoy?" said Sturgis.

Bilia looked at Mrs Figg, opposite, who was knitting and looking sour. Bilia had moved onto embroidery, a study of hedge fruit, done with silver needles that winked and flashed in the lamplight at careful directions from Bilia's wand. She paid attention to it as she replied. "It put me where the Dark Lord could see me, in a manner of speaking, and out of Severus's way. I might be fast, but I haven't ever been on a battlefield and that night..."

"That night had to be carefully choreographed," said Severus, his voice quiet, and somehow compelling. "Harry took a full dose of luck potion, which I knew he had, and had his own agenda. I had mine. Draco had Bilia's dose."

"Why?" said Tonks, outraged.

"I asked Draco to open up with me, that no consequences would follow, and how we were going to manage the fight, and it turned out, he isn't eager to kill people. Being a Death Eater is not the life of ease and glamour he once thought, and he did not much like the idea of Fenris Greyback being loosed upon the school, nor the Carrows and a few other slavering degenerates with more malice than sense. Thankfully, I already killed Bellatrix Lestrange, so we didn't have her as an added complication."

"You killed Bellatrix?" said Moody, interested.

"She gave insult to my wife," said Severus. "The Dark Lord asked me to make sure no such thing happened again."

"And what does he want with you?" Moody wanted to know, turning on Bilia.

"I'm still not a Death Eater," Bilia told him with her usual smile. "I use Malfoy Manor as a source of potions ingredients for Severus to use, and thus go in and out frequently and will enventually be able to report who is seeing whom, though for now, they're all strangers."

"How can we trust you?"

"I trust her," said Sirius. "She's done more for the Order than anyone."

"She was the one who made sure that I kept Slytherins from roaming about the school taunting those who were in mourning, the one who made sure that proper mourning was observed, the one who... cleaned up, while we were all exhausted or in a state of shock, and the one who took all my patrols. She pointed out my face would not be welcomed by most. Now the Ministry will fall and I will be installed as the new Headmaster."

"Over my dead body!"

"No, that's impossible," said Bilia. "Well, not impossible, but terribly inconvenient. Who teaches Transfiguration if you're not able to?"

Minerva stared at her.

"In fact, I've trained an able replacement," said Severus. "No, not Bilia. The Head— Albus Dumbledore was counting on my becoming Headmaster this summer. And the takeover of the Ministry could be at any moment from now on. His people are all in place, ready."

Kingsley sighed. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Save as many as you can, Kingsley. Did you have— did he give you any plans for after the fall? Sane plans?"

"I'm to send a signal to the Burrow."

"Calculated," said Sirius. "Why the Burrow?"

They all looked at each other and the empty seats where the Weasleys usually sat in a block, the twins to Sirius's right, then Mr Weasley, then Mrs Weasley.

"I suppose we should send someone to ask what they might know," said Kingsley.

"Volunteers?" said Bilia. "Obviously not me."

"I'll go," said Tonks.

"I'd wait until lunchtime, let them collect themselves together," said Bilia. "Find out when they can be here too. Who else was handed post-mortem plans?"

"I still have to look after the Dursleys," said Hestia. "I mean, that hasn't changed." 

"They're not already gone?" Bilia asked.

"No... I can't get them to go."

"Kingsley? You have gravitas... Moody, they know your face... who else?"

"I'll go," said Sturgis, who was always at a loose end these days.

"Mr Lupin, you make a good face of reason, and then Hestia of course, since it's your project. Make sure they realise they can go back once it's over, perhaps see if they want to rent it out to other muggles or use a house-sitting service - not ours."

"I had a plan to get Potter out," said Moody. "I take it he's not going?" He turned to face Sirius.

"No," said Sirius. "He's protected here. The protections on that house have been useless since Voldemort was raised." 

"Right." Moody didn't like it, but he didn't argue.

"Did anyone else have post-mortem plans?"

Looks around the table from Order members who were anything but orderly in the face of such utter disaster. They looked more lost even than usual.

"I had any number of them," said Severus. "I'm not supposed to share them, but for the sake of checking them over for sanity I will."

"Go on then," said Kingsley, speaking for the group. In general, people were leaning forward a little, wanting direction. Wanting reassurance they weren't likely to get.

"Well, for one, I'm to hit Sturgis with a Confundus Charm so that he persuades you to change the day, for added security, to three days before Potter's birthday. Dumbledore thought you would go along with that. Then I was to betray all of you in an ambush to come and get Potter."

There was a shocked reaction that more and more of them sat and waited out, all of them drinking wine or tea by the end, as Sirius sorted drinks out by sheer habit and his display of manners led to people reining in their emotions.

"An excellent vintage," Bilia said, as usual, and as usual things settled down.

"Quite," said Severus. "I assume we can drop that one?"

"The whole thing. Harry's coming straight here," said Sirius. He wasn't even bristling for a fight, merely laying out what would definitely happen. No hint of madness or rage spoiled his features.

"Then, assuming Potter survives that, I'm to see to it he gets hold of Godric Gryffindor's sword, some time after next Christmas, but I must make sure he endangers his life to get hold of it." Severus was impassive, apparently more concerned with his shining goblet.

"Well, that makes sense at least," said Bilia, to shocked looks. "It's a hero's sword, you're supposed to be facing death when you get it. Surely some of you know about it?"

"How do you?" asked Moody.

"I read terrible historical novels about the Four Founders," said Bilia with a smile. "I mean, complete rubbish, but then I make Severus dig out the truth behind the story while he's at Hogwarts."

"Usually in Ancient Runes," said Severus dryly. "Now and then I volunteer to take someone's detention just to escape."

"I did wonder why you were suddenly being so helpful," said Minerva.

"So... that insane plan isn't so insane," Tonks suggested.

"Oh no, it is. Severus risk Harry's life? When he's been told not to?"

"Oh, it gets better," said Severus. He drank from his goblet and admired it, before putting it down. "We have his last orders, before we all settled in to wait for Draco to get on with whatever it was he was doing."

Minerva drank from her goblet. "These are awfully heavy. What are they, lead?"

"Solid gold," said Sirius. "What? I like gold. Harry likes gold."

"You made these, Bilia?" Minerva asked, very interested in the writing on these shining works of art.

"Oh yes. We put most of the money aside in case Severus ended up sacked and in disgrace, or we were on the run together, but life is definitely... silkier since I finished that commission."

"They're very nicely done."

"Why are we talking about goblets?" asked Tonks, bewildered.

"Minerva is putting off the evil hour," said Bilia. "Let's be kind to one another."

"Sorry," said Tonks. She drank. 

"I suppose I am," said Minerva. She sighed. "Go on then." She looked all of her years just now.

Severus took a drink himself and inclined his head, looking like a villain but being afforded a wary respect by wizards and witches following the lead of Kingsley and, surprisingly, Moody. "Very well. Harry must not know until the last minute, he said, or how would he have the strength to do what must be done? I asked what he was supposed to do. He said it was between Harry and himself. He said there would come a time after his death, when the Dark Lord - obviously he did not say the Dark Lord - when the Dark Lord would fear for the life of his snake. I said for Nagini? He said precisely. If there comes a time when he keeps his snake beside him, not sending it out to do his bidding, but under magical protection, then, I think it will be safe to tell Harry. His words, you understand."

They all did, and were reluctant and yet eager for more.

"Tell him what?" said Minerva.

"Tell him that he has a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul inside his scar, giving him the power of speech with snakes, and that, while that fragment of soul remains attached, protected by Harry, the Dark Lord cannot die. I said, so, the boy must die? And he said, yes, and the Dark Lord himself must do it. He said..." He drank, and went on, his voice the only noise in this room of silent listeners. "He said, we have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to...." Another drink. "To... let him try his strength. Meanwhile, the connection grows stronger, a parasitic growth. If I know him, he said, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of... of Lord.... of the Dark Lord."

"He never," said Minerva.

"I said, you have kept him alive so he can die at the right moment? He said..." Severus looked bitter. "He _said_ , don't look so shocked, Severus, how many men and women have you seen die? I said lately, only those whom I could not save. You used me." Severus shook his head. "I... we had a row, but he was adamant. Harry Potter must die, the Dark Lord himself must do it."

Bilia snipped off a thread, startling them all. "He doesn't need to die," she said. "He needs to be close to the Dark Lord and myself. You know that cleaning... I hesitate to call it a spell?"

"That takes anything living. Harry's living."

"True. There's a variation. Severus, given time, would have found it himself. I don't work, and I'm only _actually_ all that busy between June and November. I get bored and have lots of time alone to think and read."

"You found a cure?"

"Yes, but it needs Harry and the Dark Lord in close proximity, then we send it back where it belongs. There's still whatever secret he's still hugging to his chest, Harry I mean, but all we can do is try to be there for him and hope he comes to us for help before it's too late. Oh, the Dark Lord is having me study necromancy."

Moody sprayed the contests of his flask over the table, and Bilia neatly scooped them up and soaked them into a napkin. 

"Necromancy."

"Yes. I'm not killing anyone, and he does have to get at Severus _somehowM_. I did say, didn't I, before, that's he's extremely irritating?"

"Irritating." Moody's one eye was so narrow it was lucky he was wearing a magical spare. It was pointed directly at her.

"Well, if he has control over the entire country and Severus has control over the school, then I run out of excuses not to make a proper study of the Dark Arts, and for some reason, the Dark Lord doesn't want anyone Severus would choose to marry left at a loose end."

"I wonder why," said Sirius into his goblet, the sound echoing more loudly for his attempt to muffle things.

"With Severus as Headmaster, I can't even be busy making jam," said Bilia regretfully. "He can just get house-elves to do it for me and he'll be earning a decent salary. So yes, necromancy and it'll be legal when I do. Did you get anywhere with the slave question?"

"Not yet. I'll try. It's still better than a complete slaughter," said Severus. "The intention, naturally, is to slaughter muggleborns, and I am trying to persuade him to use them as chattel slaves instead. They would, then, still be alive."

"He does have the magic," said Bilia. "Not many could do it, but he could."

"How do you know?" asked Minerva.

"I happened upon a piece of his magic and was able to examine it and pick up the gist, and then there are the Dark Marks. He can make slaves of them, and once he's dead, the magic that made them slaves will die too, freeing all of them. They won't have happy lives, but they will, at least, have lives."

"How skilled are you?" Kingsley asked.

Bilia examined an embroidered greengage. "Moderately," she said. "I came to a wand rather late in life, you'll recall it was my wedding present from Severus. I think not having one caused my magic to have to stretch itself, and I don't think about it the way others do. The closest... I very much regret that the closest I have found in style is the Dark Lord, but we put our magic to very, _very_ different purposes. I mostly use it as a cleaning aide."

"It's true," said Sirius. "She does. You saw the place before she turned up. And she got rid of the portrait." 

"Not the locket, that had a piece of the Dark Lord's soul in it as well, you'll recall, and I assume that the locket, too, was keeping him alive and it was somehow infesting the entire house through Kreacher's magic."

"The snake's another," said Moody. 

"Probably. He could have any number of the things about," Bilia said. "Does Harry know about the locket, Sirius?"

"No, I haven't told him."

"Perhaps you should. He has at least one post-mortem plan, and I begin to suspect he's out looking for soul-pieces. Let him know too, I need to somehow get both of them together without his being immediately killed, so I can get the yuk out of his scar and put it where it's supposed to be."

"I'll do that."

"Tell him about the sword of Gryffindor. I have it put away, he's supposed to have it, and probably it won't let him use it unless he does something ridiculously dangerous, which is more or less his hobby. I can put it in your hands, Sirius, if Minerva will allow me while she's Deputy Headmistress. It's one more weapon out of the Dark Lord's hands."

"Granted," said Minerva at once. 

"You know, if he has sent Harry on a treasure hunt, and told him not to tell anyone, I'm going to dig him up so I can kick his arse," said Bilia, threading a needle with dark green thread. "Harry's not even seventeen, he shouldn't be doing this all on his own. He has us."

"Getting him to open up is going to be tricky," said Sirius.

"Veritaserum," said Severus.

"Severus, _no_ ," said Bilia, exasperated. "No, you can't build trust by forcing answers out of him. Anyway, I taught him to make the antidote."

"Why on earth did you do that?" said Severus, taken aback.

"The same reason I taught him to be good at keeping secrets every other way I could think of love. To save my neck and your arse."

"Very well."  
Bilia gave Sirius a look and he coughed and drank from his cup.

"Any other business?" said Kingsley.

None, apparently, other than a need to chew over and over the fact of Albus Dumbeldore being dead and apparently deluded. The Snapes left before anyone could persuade themselves back into hostility towards them, but Severus heard Sirius breaking things up even as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for comments, they're a total joy to get.
> 
> Not much story left now!


	22. While War Rages, There are Still Bedsheets to be Washed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus doesn't like prawns and the bedlinen needs to be gone over. Also, the Dark Lord is taking over Wizarding Britain and Bill and Fleur have a wedding planned, which is all quite tiresome. Bilia makes sure she has her priorities in order.

Bilia and Severus made slow, sweet love, actually in their marital bed, taking a whole weekend, emerging eventually to see Severus dressed in his usual dark clothes and leaving for Malfoy Manor. He was actually presentable. 

He returned by seven that evening, having been granted an afternoon audience with the Dark Lord, a rare event and a mark of Severus' failure.  
Bilia had treats on ice, and straw-coloured wine dewing beads of condensation on chilled goblets. 

"A circle of prawns?" he said, looking it over.

"I made a sauce that happens to go better with them than anything else, and it's convenient."

He took one whiskery pink morsel and took the head off, sucking the juices from inside, and vanished the shell, trying the sauce with the meat of the tail. "All right," he said, his tone bordering on the petulant.

"I swear, Severus, you're getting spoiled," Bilia grumbled. "Your turn tomorrow."

"I'm aware." He looked over the board, set to the dark side. Entirely different teams showed to the side they'd been playing most often. He put more purple counters on pale grey. "You more or less have Narcissa Malfoy. I more or less have Draco."

"How?"

"By treating him as he wants to be treated. He doesn't want help. He wants to be my equal. I reminded him that Bellatrix did not take me seriously and became an irritant and that killing her was an exquisite pleasure, and now he confides in me." 

"He'll be your seventh year prefect in Slytherin."

"Precisely, and Head Boy, but only if he does as he is told this summer. I protected him from Rodolphus." He contemplated the pieces.

"How is Rodolphus?"

"Seeking comfort from his brother." Severus put two pieces closer together. Digust and contempt made his tone biting.

"Ugh. Is that a general failing in the Death Eaters? Those, the Carrows..."

"Not the Carrows any more," said Severus. He touched the ivory piece that had a crown and an ivory bead atop it, marked for death in Dumbledore's Grand Plan. Then he fingered the counters, and moved some of them about. "I retain my position, others are scrambling. Charity Burbage is dead. This time I did not see it."

"Feelings?" Bilia asked, since it was her task to see her husband through this dreadful war in better shape than the last time. Not that this set a high bar.

His tone was remote, as if the whole thing didn't touch him at all. "I couldn't warn her, I didn't kill her, or help. I wasn't present. She died without a sense of betrayal and I am not being... tested. All this for the prophecy." A slight smile turned into a curled lip and a bitter contempt.

"You had the Dark Lord safely in the school and gave him the pleasure of killing his rival," Bilia pointed out, her hand on his. "So there's that as well."

"True." A smirk touched his lips for a while, and Bilia ran the tip of her finger over his greasy skin. He bit her fingertip and let go. "We're highly regarded on both sides of the board. Minerva has confirmed the plan with the portrait."

"How is it?" 

"A pale shadow of the original." He was dismissive, eyes still on the board, not looking her way and shrugging off the hand.

"Severus..." Bilia was chiding, and watched as he ate the food on offer, slowly. "You don't stink as much as I was expecting."

"But I do still stink."

"Somewhat. A hint of rotten egg."

"I'll still get this accounting done, then shower."

She waited, eating the prawns she had put so much work into, that he did not want.

"This portrait seems more stupid and less compelling than the last," he said after minutes of silence.

"Necromancy then."

He took a breath and let it out slowly. "It would seem so. I'm to take possession of the school in about a week."

"The Ministry falls early?"

"No, I persuaded Minerva to bow to the inevitable. I do Dumbledore's work, and thus I do the Dark Lord's." He drank wine and made a grimace. "Turn over the board."

They did. "Purple on Blood-red, formerly Parchment."

"She's carrying on his influence."

"So far, at least within the main square." Severus scowled at the square representing Hogwarts.

"We don't count it purple yet... blood-red tokens, one away from every piece. We can entirely own both the yellow ones with work."

"Do so then."

"No, love, this one's yours. An attempt at conciliation and a little charm."

He glared at her.

Bilia looked back until he looked away.

"Charm isn't my strong suit," he said, very nearly in a huff.

"You have a charming voice, my love. They love tales of struggle, danger and sacrifice." She gave him a hopeful smile, goodness only knew how it looked.

"Very well." He made a disagreeable face, his crooked teeth helping shape his mouth into a fleshy, twisted shape like an anus, dark lines forming where the lamplight gave shadows. His eyes glittered as he looked over and over the board. "Why me?"

"I could be besotted and covering for a monster. That one meeting without Team Orange was convincing, and they need only a little work to be ours. Better purple than gold."

"Granted. You're claiming we have the wooden piece?"

"I do seem to be, don't I? I've no doubt we'll find Gold has been working steadily and we have no way of knowing what counters he has where. Yes. All our plans are coming together, to one end, and Piggy's had a chat. Put a purple counter on him, take off one red."

"We have the Piggy."

"Not quite so much that he's ours, and Team Black isn't quite purple either, but we did all have a nice day at the seaside. Team Wood was watching over us, and Team Green was allowed to unwind and play. A lack of funereal solemnity, some training in living on the land. They have a nettle soup to make. Piggy has to lose the Trace before anything much happens."

"I could have an amnesty," Severus said, tapping the board with one long finger. His face was more thoughtful, a greasy lock of hair bisecting his ill-shaped forehead. "Allow him his N.E.W.T.s while you help him finish things off."

"You can do that?"

"All manner of strangers will be coming to the school. He'll have to be good at preparation work for the polyjuice."

"He is." Bilia was proud of what she had wrought there. Of course, that had been wiped out in one night of chaos...

"You'll teach him the twelve-hour recipe, at Hogwarts, tomorrow. Blood-red can smuggle him in. Let him know no harm will come to him at school while I am Headmaster."

"It should be you. Make a treacle tart, offer it yourself."

Severus nodded, and leaned forward to kiss her. "Anything else?"

"Parchment-Small is busy out of sight, and as for Silver... We've been busy, she's neglected." Bilia took a purple counter away. "I haven't seen her." They both looked round for an owl but one didn't arrive.

"I'll prepare a basket to take with you. Do you have more prawns?"

"No, they don't keep," she said, and gave a "Tsk!" at his expression of open relief.

"They aren't my favourite food, Bilia."

She smiled. "I'd gathered."

"The sauce does an excellent job of removing the unpleasant aftertaste. If you have to poison someone, use prawns. The Dark Lord asked, how are your studies of necromancy going?"

"I'll know when I have a fresh corpse," she said. "Do not have anyone make one on my account, that would taint the body with intent. Obviously he'll know, but it's better if he realises I'm aware as well."

"I'll pass on your words. Love?"

"Severus?" She turned her unlovely eyes to him, drinking in his expression.

"Why necromancy?"

"I'm Master of Death. We're stuck together in an endless loop, dying and going back. Bodies pile up all around us, unavoidably. Ivory is a necromantic construct. There's an obvious, if revolting, gap in our understanding, and I'm not as ill with memory as you. You see them die but I can deal with the cadavers after. Teamwork."

He ran long fingers over his too-thin lips. "Don't let me see," he said, after this long pause of looking at a plain dark wall.

"I won't put bodies in your way deliberately."

"You need this," he said, meeting her eyes.

"I do. There's a line I need to realise between what is quick and what is dead."

A nod, and he folded certain emotions away, becoming lighter and sunnier and more loving. He considered the prawns, and shook his head and ate cheese puffs instead with considerably more enjoyment.

"I must say, the death of Bellatrix makes you considerably less rank," Bilia noted, as she put the board away.

"A general improvement in the atmosphere has been noted already. The Dark Lord considered her a leak."

"Despite my saying it was foresight."

"I'm not sure he takes your word for anything," Severus said with a smile. He popped a cheese puff into his mouth. 

"No... Come on, get a bath and changed and tomorrow, we're cleaning this room before you get busy cooking. I'm doing laundry all week."

"And teaching Piggy."

"And that."

They kissed and embraced and leaned on one another, and in the morning were up early in the sex-stinking room, looking after Severus's pets and beginning something of a spring clean.

* * *

Mrs Figg was knitting a red something or other, carefully following a pattern, the only piece on board that was blood-red and not remotely purple. Bilia settled in opposite, accepting wine, and appreciating it. She pulled out wool that looked as if someone had collected Old Man's Beard from the hedgerow and fastened it into being a yarn by weaving grey silk in place. It promised softness and a warmth to rival fur. She cast on to needles the soft yellow-white of boiled bone, looking at numbers.

Mrs Weasley looked sourly at them both. Her eyes were very red, clashing with her grey and ginger hair, still mostly ginger, but the war was adding a year for every month, or so it seemed. Bilia granted her a warm smile, and was reminded by the look of revulsion that she did not have a face that allowed for warm smiles. 

Sirius, used to Bilia, gave a warm smile back, and was thus handsome. "Severus, how are things going?" he asked as though they were actually friends.

Severus paused, contemplating his small glass. No golden goblets this time. Crystal spread light, a touch of pink and clashing gold from altered lamplight. The room smelled of honeysuckle, and somewhat of Moody's foul overcoat. 

"On the whole, not as badly as they could be," he said. "I hesitate to use words like 'well', when death surrounds us on all sides. I don't want to be accused of celebrating what is a dreadful necessity."

"Understandable," Sirius said.

Bilia was watching Mrs Weasley as the quiet conversation went ahead. She'd given a small nod of satisfaction, and something had softened. Bilia noted a counter for her piece. It would be the very first. She checked her knitting, and took care to cosset expensive wool.

"Scrimgeour is asking after Harry," said Kingsley.

"Harry isn't interested in backing the Ministry," said Sirius. "He won't budge."

So, Kingsley had been working in the background, gathering quiet influence of his own. He and Mr Weasley exchanged glances, and Bilia noted another counter either way, team gold and orange influencing one another.

"The Dursleys are settled out of the way," Hestia volunteered, talking to Bilia, then Kingsley.

"That's good news," said Severus, his voice gentle. "Not only would the Dark Lord use them, he would no doubt send me to get them. Are you tied up with them?"

Hestia nodded.

"Do you need anything? Support, something useful to be getting on with for the cause? Protection over your home?" Bilia asked, even as her busy fingers turned a line. She looked back at it to make sure all was well.

"And what about Emmeline's home?" said Mrs Weasley, her tone sharp, accusatory. "You can't keep staying here, dear, it isn't right."

Emmeline went pink.

"You're not accusing Sirius?" Bilia asked, as if she didn't want to believe any such idea might have occurred, but was forced to check.

"Of course she isn't," said Severus firmly. "That would be tawdry and unbecoming. This is a safehouse during a time of war, not a bachelor den. I also doubt that Sirius is carrying on a seduction with his godson and his godson's friends looking on. Mrs Weasley, what did you actually mean? I think we should make efforts to clear up these understandings as they arise."

Kingsley was amused and drank his wine, flickering a glance to Bilia. "An excellent vintage," he said.

Bilia shook her head and set a stitch, paying close attention to the tension she was applying.

"She needs a home of her own," said Mrs Weasley, going pink herself.

"Then we need a dozen people to put the home together from the foundations up, with protective enchantments more or less set into every brick," said Severus.

"As it happens, Emmeline and I have been working on a plan to raise her home from the foundations up, with protective enchantments more or less set into every brick," said Sirius cheerfully. Score one to them, apparently. No mention of his other houses, but then they weren't as safe as Order Headquarters and were probably quite nasty, if he'd never offered them.

"I see no reason why you would not begin now. Bilia?" Severus taking charge and not being hissed down for it, either.

Bilia put her knitting down. "Now is a very good time for building and strengthening defences, according to a seer I've been seeing."

"Fiddle-faddle," said Minerva, her tone as dismissive as her words. "Well, it is. Divination is a lot of arrant nonsense. If we're going to be led by seers, we might as well just give up now."

Bilia glanced at their newest member, and checked her knitting, made a note and cut off the thread to start again, turning the cut-off section into a mouse that ran across the table and curled up in front of Hermione. "A toy for the cat," she said. 

"Thanks," Hermione said with a smile.

"Having trouble?" asked Mrs Figg. "That's an expensive wool to waste if you're not up to it."

"What is it?" asked Mrs Weasley.

Bilia shook her head. "Strategically speaking, is the seer right?" she asked.

"Strategically speaking, yes. The Dark Lord has the school, more or less, or so he believes, dependent on taking down the Ministry, and he has made it clear he is going to take it down when it suits him. I do not need to know the day."

"What are you passing back, Snape?" Moody asked.

Severus grinned nastily, all but rubbing his hands. "A wailing and a gnashing of teeth, despair, disorder, panic, fervent arguments over whether the Chosen One matters at all. Not orderly meetings where we attempt to stay focused, get along and do not put one another down. I am not admitting to attending a meeting here until or unless he presses me to do so. I spoke of the aftermath with complete disgust. I did, truthfully, report a lack of general direction. Sirius, did you get direction?"

"I think you're onto something with the treasure hunt, but he's clammed up and won't be pushed. I'm not pushing either. None of us should," said Sirius. "We can only keep offering our resources."

"Given that we're doing building work and marshalling our resources, should we bring him in?" Bilia asked.

"Certainly not!" said Mrs Weasley, very loudly. "He's underage. He should be thinking about school, not this!"

"Inside voices, Molly," said Sirius with a smile. "We don't shout at meetings, do we?"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"Mrs Weasley, do keep a watch upon your tongue," said Severus. "Without Sirius, there is no place to meet that Death Eaters, other than myself, cannot get to. You act as though this is your organisation and Sirius is your underling. Have some respect for your host, because what is absolutely certain is that in the last dozen meetings I have attended, all you have ever given is the shrill opinions of a housewife with little to no understanding of war. You would be better at home seeing to this madness of a wedding, although _why_ that cannot be hosted in the bride's country, in safety, I cannot quite fathom. _Must_ we risk Order lives to see Bill and Fleur hitched? Kingsley?"

Kingley sat up and looked at Arthur, who looked unhappy, darting looks around them all.

"It does seem an unnecessary risk," he decided. "France would be much safer."

"No! It's going to be at the Burrow, and that's final."

"Harry's not going," said Sirius. "It's asking for trouble. If you two want to get married, fine," he went on, facing Bill and Fleur. "That's all very nice, but if you had any sense, Bill, you'd take your fiance, get out and come back when it's done."

"A vote," said Severus. "Risk Order lives for a family wedding to please Mrs Weasley, or send the entire thing to France and have it safely over where Death Eaters cannot get to it at all. Votes for the Burrow?"  
Hands went up.

"For France, and no risk?"

A lot more hands.

"Then if you do go ahead with this madness, Mr Weasley, you do so without our blessing and the Order would be foolish indeed to protect you. It takes wands away that could be helping Miss Vance establish herself within a safehouse while the Dark Lord is distracted. What is your decision, Mr Weasley? Mademoiselle?"

Mrs Weasley mouthed in silence, Mr Weasley taking her hand and squeezing it, while Bill looked trapped.

"Mr Weasley. Bill. Please," said Severus. "Lives are at stake. Please do the right thing, that is all I ask."

"France," he said, all but cringing.

"Then let us very swiftly arrange a removal to your blushing bride's family and offer whatever aid you think is needed to be established there tonight," said Severus. "It needn't keep you out of the war."

"I know excellent crossing points," said Bilia.

"So do I, as it happens," said Sirius. "We'll be glad to help. Arthur, can you help us pack?"

"That would be a great relief, if you could," said Severus. "The wedding has been tying up resources we need to minimise the slaughter that is going to happen. If there is to be a takeover, you cannot afford the distraction of a family wedding, and Mrs Weasley, you can concentrate on growing ingredients and brewing healing potions, for we will surely need a great many."  
Bilia took off the spell that was keeping Mrs Weasley silent.

"Well, Mr Weasley? Will you work with the Order or against it, now that we have all decided?" Severus pressed.

"With," said Arthur. "Sorry love." He moved his hand over hers, and she subsided, bursting into loud tears.

"All my dreams, shattered..."

"I rather think the second wizarding war is more important than a housewife's dreams of lording it over a garden wedding," Severus snapped. "Mrs Weasley, if you cannot be useful, _go home_. Go to the Burrow, all of you and get Bill and Fleur safely to France, and make sure Fleur's parents have all they need. My regards to young Gabrielle, Mademoiselle."

"I will pass them on. It is rather a relief, to not be forced to marry in England," said Fleur.

"Of all the ungrateful—" Mrs Weasley was cut off.

" _Do_ we actually need Mrs Weasley for anything?" Bilia asked sweetly. "I do hope someone can tell me by the next meeting. She's been undermining us since I first arrived, and I actively dread seeing her here because it turns into this."

"Go," said Severus, and stood up. They all did.

"Arthur, you _can't_!"

"We'll manage," said Arthur.

The kitchen emptied of people, including Kingsley, leaving Severus, Bilia and Sirius behind, after quick, quiet conversations with Bill.

"One set of apron strings finally cut," said Bilia. "All the loud noises will be there, not here. _Do_ we need her? Obviously we're not killing her."

"Regretfully," said Severus. "No, Sirius, there's no plan to harm her."

"I'll talk to Kingsley," said Sirius. "She's a real pain if she doesn't get her own way." He rubbed his neck, eyes darting about. Not the madness of Azkaban or his own inner, eternal anger at the world, but the caculating Marauder was there all right.

"He has more control over Arthur Weasley than anyone else," said Bilia, talking to Severus. "You have none, but Kingsley _is_ listening to you. Whatever secret plan needed the Burrow to be full of Order people when the Ministry fell, isn't happening. Perhaps we should be up front about that, just him and us alone."

"Soon," said Severus. "Perhaps in the morning, first thing, given that we don't know when the Dark Lord will finally strike."

"I'll be there. Should Harry?" Sirius asked.

Bilia and Severus looked at one another.

"He doesn't do well in large groups or noise," she said. "Not unless Defence Against the Dark Arts are involved. He might be happier to open up if he feels he's part of a very small team in charge of things."

"Yes, Harry should be there."

"We'll make good coffee, I think, all together, to wake up," said Bilia. "Shall we say six? Sirius, if you send a private patronus..." 

"I can just go over," said Sirius.

* * *

Bilia sat before the Dark Lord, only two of them alone, and Nagini. "Severus is mostly concerned with setting up Hogwarts, and with laundry," she told him. 

"Laundry? Is this some sort of esoteric code?"

"No, it's sheets and blankets and things," she told him. "He runs a house, and there are domestic details to consider, even for a wizard of his elevation. We divide the work equally, as a team. Now, while everyone is shell-shocked and the school closed, he can concentrate on the domestic sphere, and be a good husband to me. The price of a happy marriage."

"Your heart beats with his."

Bilia considered that idea. "No... they halt together but beat alone, or we should be giving one another palpitations. Did you need either of us dead for some particular reason?"

He had a nasty smile on his malformed face. "Does that bother you?" he asked. Schoolyard bullying tactics with the Dark Arts attached.

"It does mean you consider one or both of us a burden to your cause," she told him. "Is something amiss?"

"He is my right hand wizard and he is concerned about his wife's sheets."

"His own sheets. He sleeps on them. He rightly desires comforts, as you have taught him to elevate himself. He seeks to be worthy of your cause. If we had slaves..."

"Do you wish particular slaves?"

Bilia thought of Hermione. "A witch. Severus will not wish to leave me alone all day with a wizard, and he satisfies me enough. I'm not sure how large his appetite is, but as long as she does the bulk of the domestic work, I shall not care. I can train her, and so can he. One slave at once until thoroughly domesticated. Does this mean there is merit in the plan?"

Nagini shifted close by, and Bilia put her hand out absently to smooth over the green scales, admiring her beauty and looking up again at Voldemort.

"Severus was persuasive. When he has done his... laundry, send him to me."

"I don't think he will like that, but I shall pass on what you have said," said Bilia. "I don't want him thinking I put myself above him in his sphere of service to your cause. He is your right hand wizard, I am his wife."

"You are content only to be his wife? A witch of your powers?"

"As it happens, yes. Fortunately." She ran her hands over Nagini's scales. They were smooth, dry and warm. "I have very clear wants and needs, and Severus supplies them. We aren't gregarious, like you. He'll be comfortable, and I will. He agreed to serve you as a Death Eater. I agreed to serve him as a wife. So far, it is working out well, for all of us, I think."

"What of the Order?" His voice was quiet, almost pleasant, with that dark edge. "Will you be able to take them down entirely, or are they to be a thorn in my side?"

"Now that Mrs Weasley's been cut out, they'll be more effective. Given that they only stun, they aren't a threat, and at the moment all their efforts are on self-protection. There's no grand, uniting plan. If Severus hadn't marshalled them, they would be concentrating on a family wedding. That's done now."

This was surprising news, apparently, although perhaps not. "What purpose was the wedding supposed to achieve, do you think?" he asked. A double-edged question. 

"I assume it was supposed to put Harry in place for a Death Eater attack to serve Dumbledore's plans somehow. I object on principle to serving Dumbledore's plans. Or Molly Weasley's. Or Arthur Weasley's. Kingsley's a politician, he'll do whatever it takes to survive until he can one day become Minister, that isn't our concern. There's no plan that we know of that interferes with anything you're doing."

"What becomes of the boy?"

Bilia smiled and looked up from Nagini, meeting Voldemort's eyes, ruby red, with slits for pupils. "He's a snotty teenager and will do whatever he sees fit. A loose cannon. He has no taste for scholarship. He does have a taste for rescuing people and a knack for getting out alive against impossible odds, but left alone to seek his own direction, he reads the news and mopes. He's reactive, not pro-active. His main purpose seems to be to die at the right time and in the right place."

"Either must die at the hand of the other."

Bilia took a breath and let it out. "Are prophecies reliable?" she asked.

Voldemort smiled. "Not necessarily." He wasn't giving a great deal away.

"I don't see that he has any chance whatsoever of killing you beyond some odd sort of convoluted unforeseeable thing. You took the Elder Wand from the old man's corpse, so he can't become Master of Death, and it was a clean kill, so there isn't a point where he was disarmed by someone else who then held mastery and confused the issue. His words are _not_ as fire upon dry grassy fields. He's barely coherent most of the time. So far as we can, we've disassembled whatever plans and timing Dumbledore worked out before he died, and kept his presence from the castle. He'll do the noble, heroic thing out of sheer reaction."

"And Severus? What are _his_ plans, Bilia?"

Bilia didn't correct Voldemort on the use of her first name. "Severus will run the school and have me do the dirty work he cannot get out of. He has a high, lonely tower more splendid than all the others in a splendid building, and will have full licence to explore the Dark Arts as deeply as he could ever wish. With enough slaves, the school could return to something of its former glory, leaving him lauded through the ages. I expect he'll draw upon the public purse quite heavily, but it won't be going upon robes. You'll need generation after generation of quality wand-wielders to put to use. We'll concentrate on that, until there's some method of running the school to be his legacy."

"And you, my dear?" Voldemort asked quite pleasantly.

Bilia smiled. "By his side, making sure he functions as he should. Not glamourous, but useful. We began in squalour, we'll end in luxury. If we become bored, you'll be informed lest boredom prove a danger. For now, Hogwarts will eat his time, setting a new regime in place and thwarting all attempts to cause disruption, so I imagine I'll be talking to people as the face of reason. The idea is to have Hogwarts running smoothly so that we can be left alone to get on with it."

"A laudable aim," he said, his expression cold as he regarded her. 

She inclined her head and settled herself neatly, sitting upright. 

"Since I cannot attack you, I must apparently put up with you." He sounded bored.

"And thus Severus goes from strength to strength, and has thwarted Dumbledore at every turn, while gathering the loyalty of his people. My loyalty is to him, and we approach an endgame where he is settled in place and has no reason to desire otherwise. He will eventually grow old and die, and so will I, while you remain immortal and in control."

"You do not consider Potter any sort of threat? Truly?" 

Bilia shook her head. "I've looked, and so has Severus, and he remains stubbornly ordinary, other than having bright green eyes and a scar and famous parents. With a great deal, a _great_ deal of patient tutoring, he has become adequate at potions preparation, but he can't grasp the principles until they're broken down completely. He can duel, and survive. He can't plan or plot. He seeks no company, hosts no parties, suggests no outings, does the bare minimum of work, studies only if led to it with care and casts spells exactly as they are taught with no variation. With no one to jump up and rescue, he just sits in place, fretting."

"Reactive, not pro-active." 

"Yes. Entirely so."

"Then we shall consider which things we shall have him react to." Voldemort's smile was very cruel. Nagini gave a hiss that sounded like she might be laughing.

Bilia wasn't about to break role. "With respect, Lord Voldemort, I plan to concentrate on getting our house in order, then on Severus himself, while he carries out your work."

"So be it." He rose to his feet, the door opening without any apparent gesture. Bilia gave a slight curtsey and left. When she got back, she cleaned herself thoroughly in the extended green-tiled bathroom, then went back to a long job of pegging out sheets to dry in a sea breeze atop a lonely cliff. After that, she was busy cleaning furs with potions and charms and oils, so that they were new and plush and smelled only of fragrant resins. 

When Severus came to her side, they didn't talk; they were too busy working in an amicable partnership. The games they played _that_ night were entirely in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter! My thanks to my commenters, you give me warmth and life. The last chapter is just about ready to be posted.


	23. And Then They Both Lived Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley has been a busy wizard and the Snapes need to secure their position if they're to win the entire game. That means taking a gamble.

Kingsley hunted the Snapes down the next day while they were busy on this windswept clifftop field. "A little late for spring cleaning," he said, once he'd turned up at the patronus-sent co-ordinates. 

"Dumbledore never allowed Severus time," said Bilia. "So we became used to putting things in order once the school was closed, rather than in March. The seasons aren't all that set in any case. We just need wind and no heavy rain." 

They were cleaning cotton and linen sheets and plain wool underblankets, on a cliff covered by short, dry turf with the occasional small plant, a site normally visited only by rabbits, birds and the occasional hunting fox. Bright sun was bleaching out pillowcases, pegged onto frames.

"I suppose with you as Headmaster, things would change."

"I'd have a hundred house-elves," said Severus. "I am still pushing for human slaves, and slowly gathering support for the idea. They can't have any degree of freedom, Kingsley, but they will live. That wasn't why we wanted to see you. Bilia?"

Bilia gave a sad smile. "We've found the Dark Lord's spy," she said. "The one who has been passing information on behind our backs."

"It's not me."

"No. It's Arthur Weasley." 

"Arthur?"

"The Dark Lord only has information he has, and not information he doesn't," said Bilia. "I don't doubt that it's the Imperius Curse rather than actual disloyalty. You recall he committed actual atrocities before?"

"Yes, but not this time."

"No, this time he is only eyes and ears. He's reported on Order meetings that Severus did not mention, so that Severus has had to scramble to maintain position, and finally he... invited me to visit, in order to clarify things. Then, too, I've paid attention at meetings and dinner parties and games evenings. It's Arthur Weasley."

"What do you want us to do?" Kingsley asked, looking between the pair.

"Don't let him get any hint about the treasure hunt. That's the one piece of information he doesn't have," said Bilia. "Everything else, including it being necessary for Harry to die at his hand, he has, and not from my husband's lips. How Harry gets from where he is to the Dark Lord's eventual death, we don't know, and have reason to not want to know. You're doing whatever you're doing at the Ministry, Severus has the school and will see to the safety of the students and as many muggleborn slaves as he's allowed to own, Sirius is looking after Harry, and Arthur is lying to all of us, while he collects information and sends it on."

"You-Know-Who knows everything."

"More or less. We're able to report, truthfully, that left to his own devices, Harry more or less sits around and frets and answers to no one. If we're wrapped up in Hogwarts business, we _can't_ interfere. You..." Bilia smiled. "I told him you were a politician and merely surving until you could become Minister, which is nicely plausible and reassuring. That the Order is in shock and interested mainly in self-protection, and has no plan, which is close enough. Arthur could tell him that it all broke up in a row. I want him cut out because he's done nothing that's any use of all to all of us since the death, and if he _is_ of use to you, he can be of use at the Ministry."

"I'll see to it."

"Just don't invite him to any more meetings," said Bilia with a smile. "Eventually he'll ask, but if you're meeting with him in secret, probably not. Still no information about the fall. Not a hint. That's.... not our area of interest."

"Understood. How about the rest?"

"Not Molly Weasley either. Nor Ron, thinking about it. The rest are fine. We'll do the usual round of morale-boosting events once our sheets are clean and winter blankets put away."

Kingsley looked over the clean, modest-looking image of respectable domesticity, and headed off himself, with a crack that startled a rabbit from a dip.

That evening, they sat down to a fricasee of rabbit flavoured with fat bacon, served with game chips and spring greens, not an exciting meal but honest. They went to a clean, fresh bed with a dark green cover made from expensive-looking curtain fabric, matching the actual curtains, in a room where the main decorations were still the vivarium and two bedside lamps. They lay holding hands, then turned over and went to sleep, for once not coated by grease or the stink of sex.

* * *

Harry was in a sulk. Obviously, Bilia had no knowing of his mind, although she did know that an offering of bright summer flowers arranged in a window box were not going to help. Phineas Nigellus Black had been moved away and could no longer report, which was very obviously for the best. Bilia looked up and saw bright clean ceilings and gave a smile that was only going to annoy Harry more. 

"Generally I bring these along to the dining room and sort them out with Sirius," she told him, handing off her coat and hat to Kreacher. "Thank you Kreacher, that's appreciated. Oh!" because the box was gone.

"Sirius wants to see you. He won't tell me why. Are you the reason Ron can't come round?" Harry asked, which Bilia thought was prescient of him. And thus not in habit. Kingsley working in the background, shifting blame...

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't think why you'd think I would be," she told Harry. "He's seventeen, isn't he? Able to decide things himself?" This wasn't the happy news Bilia would have thought, if she hadn't known all the players involved so very well. "Anyway, I shouldn't stand here chatting. If I'm taking his time away from you then best I get this done."

"Do you know why he wants to see you?" Harry asked.

"No. Let's check we are who we're supposed to be and then I'll go up. I gave you a good lesson with fanged geraniums, no one else was there."

"Er... I liked the treacle tart."

A smile. "He has taken that on board, although I don't imagine we'll be having tea together soon that he's cooked. May we?"

"This way." Harry led the way up and up the stairs to the private rooms.

"Oh good, you're here," Sirius said. "You as well, Harry," which brightened him. Harry brightened further at the next piece of news. "So, it's finally time to tell you everything that's been going on behind your back."

Harry was utterly astounded that mere adults had worked out so much, and was betrayed at the idea that Mr Weasley was working for Voldemort. Bilia cleaned up the tea cup that had been knocked over when Harry jumped to his feet shouting, and a quiet descended, with the faintest rhythmic sound of thumping music from next door. 

"He can't be," Harry begged, his green eyes pleading, looking to Sirius for a rescue from this dreadful truth.

Bilia sat back to let Kreacher clean up, a simple snap of the fingers, two and it was done. 

Sirius looked guilty, flickering a glance at Bilia and back at Harry. "It's true," he said. "He doesn't do anything, he just passes information on. He's under the Imperius Curse, he doesn't _want_ to be."

Bilia put a hand on Harry's and took it away again. "I'm sorry," she said. "Such a dreadful curse. Hence of course needing to send the wedding abroad, it would have been a trap otherwise and rather an obvious one. He must never get any hint, of course, that we realise or the Dark Lord will have whoever set the curse kill him and try another."

Sirius held Harry's shoulder, as if Bilia's gesture had reminded him. "Harry," he said, upset himself. "We'll beat him. Somehow. You'll get whatever things you need to get and we'll help."

"It's entirely possible to use an Imperius Curse to set an Imperius Curse, o poor Ron..."

Harry worked it out, looking revulsed. "He can't. He wouldn't."

"Harry, he would hold him down while the Dark Lord slit his throat, such is the power of the curse," Bilia told him gently. "There's a reason it's Unforgiveable. We don't give either of them room to regret their actions later. Ron musn't know, he would never be able to keep up the pretence."

Sirius gave a nod and put a hand to Harry's face. "Harry... we'll get through this," he told the boy. Young man. "You were very brave at the battle and you'll be brave now. We know you have to find... treasures with pieces of Vol-- of You-Know-Who's soul in."

"However many there are," Bilia said.

Harry gave her a long look and gave Sirius a gesture to talk alone.

"I'm immune to the Imperius Curse, as it happens," Bilia assured Harry. "The same as you. So is Severus. Otherwise a lot more people would be dead than already are. He fights his own instincts every day, and can't be made into a puppet. The promises he made to Albus no doubt give him strength, but it is hardly an issue either way."

She spoke with Severus later, back in the hallowed fastness of Hogwarts school. The castle was filled only with the whispering of ghosts and portraits and the mobile muttering of one Argus Filch, and neither ghosts nor caretaker could be heard in the Headmaster's office.

Severus was in his usual severe outfit with the snake's tongue cloak that could become like concealing smoke when he was fighting, as she saw when she joined him in a memory.

They watched him being expelled from the castle. "Such a desperate time," she said. "Less than a year from now."

The memory was called and went back to his master and the vision ended and went around again. "I died among friends," he said, his tone without the usual bitter anger that kept him going in a world full of fools. He watched Minerva the most closely. "She did not see," he noticed as, again, the Carrows went down. "This time she knows the game I play and will likely give me away." He pulled out, bringing Bilia with him.

Bilia shook her head and looked around as Severus reclaimed his memory. Portraits were mildly interested or pretending not to be. None were Albus Dumbledore. "Very likely his necromancy was in the form of noble self-sacrifice to the cause," she told him. "It's potent."

"Obviously," Severus said, with his vilest smile. "Just as promises can be more binding than any would guess. How is our little Piggy?"

"Not so little. He's taller than me now, if only just," Bilia said, being pleasant, a hand on her husband's arm, leaning over ang giving a peck to the cheek that he returned. She watched him relaxed. "The boy has a perfect monomania. He has one purpose in life, and one only. Take down the Dark Lord. All else is secondary."

"Worth knowing," Severus said, with a glance at the portraits, just out of listening range. He looked out of the window, clearly seeing nothing amiss, and leaned on his wife a little. "Anything, then, to do with that one purpose..."

"Will get his immediate and complete attention. This time he will not be dragging his friends along. Black has persuaded him to take adults as his allies, and we know _this_ time what the plans were about. Likely the Dark Lord knows. I haven't talked."

"Nor I. Perhaps Sturgis Podmore. He will more directly guard the snake."

"You won't, this time, be killed to get a trinket to work," Bilia said, looking out over acres of rippling grass.

"I can look at him now, and feel nothing at all," Severus said lightly, an arm around Bilia. "He is the pig, raised to die and perhaps take the Dark Lord with him."

"Black's a good influence," Bilia said, comfortable there. "I wouldn't have dreamt it, but I think he may be more use alive. I could lead him among the giants to take his chances with those and the acromantula."

"If there are no children in the battle, I will die happy," Severus said.

Bilia sighed and leaned her head into his, her hand on his where it draped over her shoulder. "You have no hope that this time we will succeed?" she asked.

"The plan was that he would die and rise again, shorn of his burden," Severus said. "The portrait told me. This time it does as it is told. I feel no presence, only canvas and paint. The last time..." He swallowed. "He was still with me," he said. "Just stepped away."

"Not all that far, apparently," said Bilia, her voice warm with love for him. "For a light wizard, he had some very dark books. I'm certain now that when we die, we'll return again, but nothing stops us living beyond the battle. Life is very comfortable when we allow it to be."

"Will you fight?" Severus wanted to know.

"I'm working with Andromeda Tonks to learn healing and with you to learn about potions, love. I mean yes, if it comes down to it, but I am happier to move bodies than to create new ones. I can learn to watch your back."

"There is no time," Severus said. "Perhaps the next time." He looked over the school. "So that's our lives. Bound eternally to this war, over and over."

"On paper it sounds like hell, but there now, we know what most people are about and can be comfortable," said Bilia. "Will you fight?"

"No," said Severus. "It does no good. Are you done with your dead bodies?"

"I got what I needed and nobody is looking," Bilia said. "Yes, love, I'm done."

"Then let us both see to the school. What a pity that killing Black is a waste of time. And Team Green will live, and show no gratitude whatsoever."

"Not to you, my love, but he sees me as a trusted adult. If I can't make sure you keep the school, my name is not Bilia Snape."

"Live or die then, it doesn't matter at all."

"Not any more, no," Bilia said. "Once we've cleaned your hovel of a place, the first thing we'll do is set up the board as we remember it, and play the game through."

He smiled, a vile sight. "I look forward to it," he said. He looked around the office. "I suppose you want to take this room over as well." His tone was fond.

"Of course I do," Bilia said, deeply amused. "All those trinkets and books." She looked critically at the portraits. "Those need reframing and the ones you have patience for set out." She looked round as the fire went green.

It was Kingsley. "May I come through?"

"Quickly," Severus said, watching him pull back and step into the room the next moment, dusting down his colourful robes. "You no doubt have happy news."

"Pius Thicknesse and Dolores Umbridge are setting up a registry of muggleborns, and are going to ban them from the school," Kingsley said, his tone very grave.

Severus rubbed his wife's back and dropped his hand, no doubt dropping his wand into it as he did. "Did you think they would do anything else?" he said, his tone unpleasant. "No doubt you have plans to rescue them."

It was clear to both of them that this was the first that Shacklebolt had even entertained the idea. "You'll help?" he asked.

"Yes, naturally, that can't possibly get me killed within the first week," Severus said with a bitter sarcasm. "Gladly will I shelter all the muggleborns. Perhaps in my spare room. My garden has no room to put up even the smallest tent, and the school will be closely watched by dunderheaded blabbermouths on both sides, but by all means, let me see what I can do."

Bilia was nearly sure that Kingsley Shacklebolt was blushing. "No, I don't suppose you can," he admitted. "You knew they would do this. You have no plans?"

"Get them out and don't let anyone catch you doing it," Severus said shortly. "Walls have ears and who knows whether he's replaced Arthur."

"Sirius says you're both immune."

"I would hope you were as well," Severus said. "Do as you see fit. I'll look after the school and keep the bloodshed to its usual levels. The boy will do what he sees fit, regardless of what adults have planned for him, but Albus was very sure he'd succeed. Keep Black out of my way or I might forget what side I'm on."

"I'll manage Sirius," Bilia said pleasantly. "Kingsley, why don't we go and see about these plans? Then I have to take an inventory of ingredients for healing potions and see whether everyone is settled and comfortable." She managed him out of the way, so that Severus dropped his shoulders in relief.

* * *

The board was turned to the pale, Death Eater side and full of figures, rich with white tokens. Eight-sided dark grey pieces had no tokens on at all, and were in a dark green square with two dark green pieces, one large, one very large. The smaller dark green piece had a small stack of blood red tokens and one purple, and that was the case for most of the pieces in the red square, which now had a thick ivory outline. The two dark purple pieces had ivory tokens on. Only a few pieces had any dark purple tokens at all.

Severus moved a few ivory pieces into the red square that represented Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One had two purple tokens and was set in a corner. The others were only influenced by Team Ivory, who was clearly winning by a large margin. 

Bilia handed him a small drink, matched to her own. "His influence will linger and we'll lose the peace," she noted. "They aren't going to fall under the sway of our allies." She set a ripple of small parchment pieces, each with a ring of one of four school colours around the bottom. "Perhaps their children?"

"If we started earlier and could keep the Headmaster from finding out," Severus said. He turned the board, with its duplicate red square and looked over the more purple and gold side. Very few orange tokens now. "What's Team Gold up to?"

"Keeping his head down so he can rule the aftermath," Bilia said, and took some golden tokens away, set some down. "He's lost the Piggy through inattention." She turned the black and green pieces purple and their tokens too. "Piggy and his guardian are aware of the registry and doing as they're told." Two pink pieces became purple. "So his guardian is making plans, and will be busy. We more or less have this entire side. And their blessing to delve into the Dark Arts. It won't be a long-lasting victory, but we have it."

Severus sneered. "A motley gang of well-meaning idiots," he said, and touched the gold piece. "We do not know what he has been doing, that we have not seen."

"No. Team Gold... has been busy..." She watched his fingers move to touch another. "He'd influence Team Black... after. And Piggy..."

Severus turned the board again. He put his finger out but did not quite touch the tallest ivory piece with the crown. "You can make him go away?"

"He'll live. Just not attached to that body, and no doubt people would go looking. Not many, though."

Severus inclined his head, his eyes on the board, dark eyes moving from piece to piece as he thought things over. "One more death," he said, touching an ivory piece on the Ministry square, one with a silk thread heading up a chain of ivory-bound pieces joined together. Corban Yaxley and his Imperius-bound victims. "Two."

Bilia beamed. "You want to fight? Not just wait in place but... remove him?" She touched the ivory piece with the crown on. 

"I want to live, my love, and this does not quite feel like living. I find..." He sounded remote again, looking at nothing. "I find that following the blood-red plan even this much has grown hollow. You have pointed out, we have nothing to actually lose. This isn't the same war." He sneered. "Imagine Piggy's dismay at being utterly redundant."

Her returning smile was equally repulsive. "If this works, but as you say, we'd lose only time. Effort." She looked over the board. "We can... survive but you're right, we'll never secure a win unless we prove ourselves. If I'm to strike so directly, we have to go before seers can pass on a whisper," she said. She looked over the board. "All or nothing then. One way or another, we end the game in the next hour."

He smooched her. "Yes," he said, and squeezed her hands, then the greasy pair embraced, and left.

* * *

They went straight to a marble manor house surrounded by peacocks and returning towards its former splendour. Dark stains and gouges in the entrance hall said that someone had died there quite recently, but the candle sconces were clean and bright.

They walked together down to Lord Voldemort's lair, Severus the picture of a Death Eater, Bilia his loyal and obedient wife. Down the elf-scrubbed steps where marble ended and damp stone began, with the stench of brimstone, and of house-elves being too scared to clean up after what was, after all, a living, eating snake.

He was there, centre of a room full of shadows, himself in light on a dark throne. Lord Voldemort.

"Bilia," Lord Voldemort said, as they walked through the door to see him. He hissed softly, some instruction, and like that, Severus was struck suddenly from behind by the snake in the shadows that neither of them had seen, and Bilia was in silver shackles before she could respond, unable to step out of time at all.

Lord Voldemort stalked over, red eyes blazing in triumph. "Did you think you could betray me and I would not find out?" he said, his tone pleasant.

Nagini struck again, heavy enough for Bilia to feel it through her boot soles.

"I have mastered Death himself and know when he approaches," he went on, touching her face.

She did not flinch. Could not move. Her heart beat was loud in her ears.

Severus choked, a dreadful gurgling sound, and reached out a hand for his wife. His life was draining out, a dark pool in lamplight.

"No one can come close intending me harm," Voldemort said, pleased with himself. "A miscalculation, wouldn't you say?" He leaned over Bilia. "No, you would not. You cannot speak. Cannot... _gesture_. You found the same secret I did, but I have known it so much longer than you." He jerked his hand and she was pulled roughly to a kneeling position. "Watch your husband die, then join him."

She looked into her husband's beetle-black eyes, and he looked into hers, and his expression became peaceful. 

His heart stopped.

* * *

Very soon after, they were both drinking perfect tea, not even upset at events. For all his death had been bloody, Severus barely looked surprised and simply ordered tea for them both.

Bilia was the first to speak. "So... no direct attack or... an attack the first time I see him?" she said, after this contemplative pause in the small, shabby room that was their eternal starting point.

Severus had, the first time she'd met him here, been hawk-wary, and the second time lost and bitter. This time, their third time, he was still rank, still greasy, still a little too thin, but every part of him was relaxed and his voice full of love. "If it doesn't work, we can try another way, love. But... yes, I'd prefer to see him taken off the board if he's going to pull that one." He touched his neck, visibly shrugged off the memory and drank tea again.

Bilia leaned back against the wall. "One way or another, Severus, we'll clean the board of him. We have forever. And each other."

Severus shuffled to Bilia's side, sharing a tender kiss. "I love you, wife," he said.

She laughed, and for all her ugliness, the laugh was rich and pleasant to the ear. "Let's go and make that true," she said.

Hand in hand, husband and wife, they went through the door to their eternity of games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal thanks to my readers, who gave me encouragement to improve my offering just that little bit more. I've been startled to have any at all and you've all been very lovely.
> 
> The next life round was looking to be an entirely different story in tone and style, and a rambling mess to write. I found I actually liked to end it where I did. The eventual triumph of the Snapes is a foregone conclusion: they have eternity. And if they don't, there's tea and cakes and sex and eternal... if not youth, then a lack of old age. And the company of rare and magical beetles.


End file.
